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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2017  with  funding  from 

University  of  Illinois  Urbana-Champaign  Alternates 


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LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 
URBANA 


THE 

— OR 

NEW  PICTORIAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  LIFE  AND  TIMES 

— OF  THE 

PIONEER  HEROES  AND  HEROINES 

OF  HMERICH, 

A FULL  ACCOUNT  OF 

THE  ROMANTIC  DEEDS,  LOFTY  ACHIEVEMENTS, 

— AND — 

MARVELOUS  ADVENTURES 

OF 

BOONE,  KENTON,  CLARKE,  LOGAN,  HARROD,  THE  WETZEL  BROTHERS,  THE  BRADYS,  POE,  AND  OTHER  CELEBRATED 
FRONTIERSMEN  AND  INDIAN  FIGHTERS;  CROCKETT,  HOUSTON,  KIT  CARSON,  BUFFALO  BILL, 

WILD  BILL,  AND  ALL  THE  FAMOUS  PLAINSMEN;  GRAHAM,  SUTTER,  MAR- 
SHALL, FREMONT,  KEARNEY,  AND  OTHER  HISTORIC 
NAMES  OF  THE  PACIFIC  COAST. 

WITH  — 

PICTURESQUE  SKETCHES  OF  BORDER  LIFE,  PAST  AND  PRESENT;  BACKWOODS  CAMP-MEETINGS,  SCHOOLS  AND 
* SUNDAY-SCHOOLS;  HEROIC  FORTITUDE  AND  NOBLE  DEEDS  OF  THE 

Pioneer  Wives  and  Mothers, 

flatboating;  the  overland  route  and  its  horrors;  the  gold  FEVER  and  FILIBUSTERING  expeditions; 

VIGILANCE  COMMITTEES;  LAFITTE,  WALKER,  BRIGHAM  YOUNG,  ETC. ; ECCENTRIC- 
ITIES AND  SELF-SACRIFICING  LABORS  OF  CART- 
WRIGHT, AXLEY  AND  OTHER 

Celebrated  Pioneer  Preachers, 

— AND  DESCRIBING 

LIFE  AND  ADVENTURE  ON  THE  PLAINS  AND  IN  THE  MINING  CAMPS  OF  TO-DAY,  INCLUDING  HUNTING,  TRAPPING, 
FREIGHTING,  RANCHING,  HERDING,  POSTTRADING,  INDIAN  AGENCIES,  SCOUTS,  GUIDES 
AND  DESPERADOES;  IMMENSE  FORTUNES  OF  WESTERN 
MILLIONAIRES,  HOW  MADE,  ETC. 

By  COLONEL  FRANK  TRIPLETT, 

Author  of  “ Sketches  of  Western  Adventure “ Prospecting , Assaying  and  Mining “ The 
Encha7ited  Isle  A “ Behe,  a Norman  Idyl  A “ The  Doctor's 
Daughter Etc.,  Etc. 

With  aoo  portrait*  from  life,  and  original  and  striking  En craving*,  from  dk*ion* 

BY  N AST,  DARLEY,  AND  OTHER  EMINENT  ARTISTS. 


CHICAGO — NEW  YORK — EONDON — PARIS — BERLIN  I 

THE  WERNER  CO. 


Copyright  1883  by  N.  D.  Thompson  Publishing  Company, 


(,  Od  iti-  X 


Qdr  I 

I l V ' ? 

T73  c. 

ISIS' 

publishers’  preface. 


In  American  history  there  are  no  more  interesting  figures  than  the 
Heroes  and  Heroines  of  the  border.  Bold,  dashing,  adventurous 
and  patriotic;  loyal  to  friends,  to  country  and  to  the  interests  of 
society,  their  work  was  singularly  effective  in  the  advancement  of 
American  civilization.  Seemingly  reckless,  their  efforts  were 
in  the  interest  of  law  and  order,  and  the  people  owe  them  a 
debt  of  gratitude  they  do  not  forget.  Their  page  in  history  is  as 
fascinating  as  it  is  honorable,  and  there  is  a peculiar  pleasure  in 
reading  the  narrative  of  their  wonderful  exploits. 

The  times  which  produced  these  heroes  and  heroines  mark  a 
period  in  American  history  of  absorbing  interest  alike  to  old  and 
young.  It  is  proper  that  it  should  be  so.  These  hardy  pioneers 
coupled  virtue  with  courage,  humanity  and  love  of  country  with  the 
stern  duties  of  frontier  life  and  battle,  and  the  example  of  their 
lives  not  only  interests  but  strengthens  our  faith  and  admiration  in 
human  courage  and  unselfish  purpose. 

In  American  pioneer  history  there  are  three  distinct  eras,  marked 
strongly  and  clearly  by  three  geographical  divisions;  from  the 
Alleghany  Mountains  to  the  Mississippi  constituting  the  first;  from 
the  Mississippi  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  the  second;  California  and 
the  Pacific  Slope,  the  third.  The  settlement  of  these  vast  regions 
developed  great  leaders,  whose  achievements  have  made  them  justly 
and  widely  famous.  They  have  a warm  place  in  the  hearts  of  the 
people,  and  a prominent  one  in  their  admiration.  It  is  appropriate 
that  their  exploits  should  be  recorded. 

In  the  present  work  not  only  has  vast  research  been  made  into  all 
the  sources  of  information  regarding  “the  border”  and  its  heroes 
and  heroines,  but  the  direct  and  indirect  consequences  of  their  actions, 
their  bearing  on  after-events  and  in  moulding  the  character  of  the 
whole  American  race  have  been  considered  with  a philosophic  and 
candid  clearness. 

V 

| I 75607 


VI 


publishers’  preface. 


With  a large  and  varied  experience  of  plains  and  mountain  life, 
Colonel  Triplett  has  been  able  to  clear  up  many  of  the  mysteries 
that  have  heretofore  hung  around  both  white  and  savage  borderers, 
and  to  show  forth,  in  their  true  colors,  the  many  historic  figures 
that  have  aided  or  retarded  Western  civilization  and  progress. 
Stripping  the  glamour  of  romance  from  many  long  accepted  tradi- 
tions, he  has  not  hesitated  to  denounce  fraud  and  evil,  whether  in 
high  or  low  places,  and  has  fearlessly  exposed  all  of  the  villainies 
whose  continuance  is  an  outrage  upon  a great  nation. 

The  field  covered  by  ‘‘Conquering  the  Wilderness”  is  a wide  one, 
embracing  as  it  does  the  history  of  every  grade  of  pioneer ; whether 
of  progress,  religion,  education  or  conquest.  Long  forgotten 
phases  of  national  history  are  revived,  and  Walker,  the  Filibuster; 
Raousset-Boulbon,  the  Adventurer;  Graham,  the  Revolutionist; 
Cartwright,  the  Revivalist,  and  other  strange  forms  again  fill  the 
stage  of  action  and  rehearse  the  varied  exploits  that  made  them 
famous,  or  notorious. 

Fitzpatrick,  Eddie,  “Old  Bill”  Williams,  Gordon,  Colter,  Jack 
Morrow,  and  others  of  the  true  pioneers  of  Plains  and  Mountains — 
the  details  of  whose  lives  were  gathered  by  the  author  amongst  the 
villages  of  the  savages  and  in  the  camps  of  hunters,  trappers,  gold 
seekers,  and  elsewhere  beyond  the  limits  of  civilization — are  here 
for  the  first  time  introduced  to  those  who  owe  so  much  to  their 
daring  and  adventurous  spirit. 

The  subject  is  one  in  which  the  author  has  delineated  the  truths 
of  history  with  thrilling  descriptions  of  battle  and  adventure,  many 
of  which  came  under  his  own  observation,  and  in  not  a few  of  which 
he  participated.  Charming  descriptions  of  sublime  and  beautiful 
scenery,  laughable  occurrences,  affecting  incidents,  pathetic  scenes 
and  terrible  combats  follow  each  other  in  rapid  succession,  and  the 
interest  of  the  reader  is  never  permitted  to  flag.  On  laying  down 
the  book,  every  one  will  doubtless  call  to  mind  the  old  but  true 
saying:  “Truth  is  stranger  than  fiction;”  for  although  in  the  entire 
volume  there  is  not  a single  fictitious  incident  recorded,  yet  the  most 
vivid  pen  pictures  of  the  master  spirits  of  romance  “pale  their 
ineffectual  fires”  before  the  thrilling  recital  of  this  “o’er  true  tale.” 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


PART  I. 


CHAPTER  I. 

HARDY  HEROES. 

Page. 

The  Pioneer  of  Civilization — The  Mound-Builder — Relics  of  a Prior  Civilization 
— The  Heroism  of  the  Pioneer — The  Mission  of  the  Indian — A Doomed 
Pace — Cooper’s  Savages — The  American  Ishmaelite — His  Warfare — Ideal 
Indians— Kentucky — The  Sign  Manual  of  the  Red  Man — The  Enchantment 
of  Distance — Outrage  and  Murder — Extinction 43 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  STRUGGLE  AGAINST  DESTINY. 

Savage  Idiosyncracies — “Against  his  Medicine” — A Celebrated  French  Duelist 
Erroneous  Ideas — The  Result  of  Hereditary  Instincts — Captain  John  Smith 
of  Virginia — Mental  Qualities — The  Tide  of  Immigration — Settlement  of 
Kentucky — The  Anglo-Norman — The  Battling  of  Children  ^gainst  Giants 
— The  Christians’  Creeds — Moral  Suasion — Brute  Force — Hospitality — Mo 
Redeeming  Traits — The  Kentucky  Pioneers — The  March  of  Destiny — 
Opening  Up  the  Wilderness — From  Oceac  to  Ocean 53 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE  INDIANS  AND  THEIR  BRITISH  ALLIES. 

Daring  Disposition  of  the  Kentucky  Pioneers — The  Exploration  of  Findley — 
The  Inherited  Love  of  Liberty — Conquest  of  Kentucky  and  the  North- 
western Territory — A Source  of  Regret — Our  Vanished  Heroes — A Power 
Second  to  None — The  Wonder  of  the  World — The  Treasures  of  Wealth  and 
Art — Two  Hundred  Millions  of  People — Capacities  for  Production — The 
Young  Republic  of  the  Mew  World— Our  Revenues — The  Arbiter  of  the 
World’s  Destinies GO 


CHAPTER  IV. 

* 

DANIEL  BOONE. 

Tne  Typical  Pioneer — His  Character — His  Defensive  Warfare — “This  was  a 
Man” — Date  of  Birth — Ancestry — His  Love  of  Adventure — His  Courage — 
Two  Anecdotes — The  Young  Hermit — The  Panther — His  Education — The 
Lore  of  the  Hunter — Unknown  Heroes — Woodcraft — Moves  to  North 
Carolina — Marries  Rebecca  Bryan — His  Children — Their  Fates — Hunting 
Excursions  — Findley,  the  Discoverer  of  Kentucky  — Boone  goes  to 
Kentucky — A Glorious  Sight — Deer  and  Buffalo — Findley’s  Question — 
Capture  of  Boone  and  Stuart — Their  Escape — Fate  of  their  Comrades — 
Arrival  of  Boone’s  Brother — Stuart  Killed  and  Scalped — Horrible  Death  of 
a Comrade — Boone’s  Brother  Departs  for  North  Carolina — Boone  Alone  in 
the  Wilderness 67 


VII 


VIII 


TABLE  OE  CONTENTS 


Page. 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE  PICKET-GUARD  OF  CIVILIZATION. 

A Life  at  Stake — Boone’s  Stratagems — Midnight  Attacks — Return  of  Squire 
Boone — The  Brothers  Explore  Kentucky — Hardships  Endured  by  Boone— 
Return  to  North  Carolina — Starts  to  Colonize  Kentucky — Attacked  by 
Indians — Death  of  Boone’s  Son — Indians  Repulsed — Retreat  to  Clinch 
River — Boone  Employed  by  Governor  Dunmore — Is  Given  a Captain’s 
Commission — Henderson’s  Purchase — Indian  Treaties — Boone  Cuts  a Road 
to  the  Kentucky  River — Twice  Attacked  by  Indians — Boonsborough  Built — 
The  “State  of  Transylvania’ ' — James  Harrod— His  Settlement — The  Terri- 
torial Legislation — Boone’s  Family  go  to  Kentucky — Stormy  Times — 
Boone’s  Daughter  Captured— Rescue — McClung’s  Comments — Reinforce- 
ment’s Arrive — Indian  Attacks — Logan’s  Fort  — Capture  of  Boone  — 
Adopted  by  Indians — Taken  to  Detroit — British  Effort  to  Purchase — Taken 
Back  to  Chillicothe — Preparations  for  War — Boone’s  Escape — A Wonder- 
ful Journey — An  Unprepared  Post — Futile  Assaults — An  Incursion  into  the 
Indian  Country — War  Party  Defeated — Return  to  Boonsborough — Savages 
in  Force — The  Siege 75 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  LAST  SIEGE  OF  BOONSBOROUGH. 

Unwise  Commanders — A Silly  Stratagem — Its  Failure — The  Indians  Run  a 
Tunnel — A Counter-Mine — Deadly  Aim  of  the  Kentuckians — Savages 
Retreat — Boone  Brings  his  Family  from  North  Carolina — Hints  of  Trouble 
— The  Fatal  Blue  Licks — Death  of  Boone’s  Brother — Boone’s  Escape — A 
Bitter  Conflict— Girty,  Elliot  and  McKey — Their  Plans — Horrible  Barbar- 
ities— The  Whites  Outmaneuvered — Death  of  Captain  Estil — Outrage  and 
Murder  — Attack  on  Bryant’s  Station  — Besieged  by  Indians  — Heroic 
Women — A Supply  of  Water — The  Sally — Reinforcements — A Wonderful 
Escape — A Sharp  Skirmish — The  Assault — Indians  Repulsed — Girty’s  Elo- 
quence— Reply  of  the  Gallant  Reynolds — A Mangy  Cur — Girty’s  Fury — 
Retreat  of  the  Savages — A Broad  Trail — Whites  in  Pursuit — An  Evil  Omen 
— The  Fiery  McGarry — Colonels  Todd  and  Trigg — Major  Harlan — The 
Fierce  Assault — Boone’s  Advice — The  Ambuscade — Fatal  Errors — A Dire 
Disaster — Death  of  Boone’s  Son — Escape  of  the  Father — An  Unexpected 
Hero — The  Gallant  Reynolds  Again — A Noble  Action — Retreat  from  the 
Field — The  Fierce  Pursuit — Reynolds’  Escape — McGarry’s  Account — His 
Fierce  Temper — Logan  Reaches  the  Field  of  Battle — A Terrible  Sight — 
Clarke's  Expedition 85 

CHAPTER  VII. 

MISFORTUNES  OF  BOONE. 

A Period  of  Repose — Land  Sharks  and  Speculators — A Dastardly  Outrage — 
Kentucky’s  Shame — McClung's  Hints — Byron’s  Eulogy — Removal  to  Vir- 
ginia—Starts  for  Missouri— Friendly  Reception  by  French  and  Spanish— 
Reaches  St.  Louis— Audubon’s  Description  of  the  Pioneer— An  Anecdote 
Related  by  Boone — His  Powers  of  Memory— Surrounded  and  Captured— 
Imminent  Peril — In  the  Indian  Camp — His  Stoic  Behavior — His  Bottle  of 
Whiskey— Searched  by  the  Squaws— A Midnight  Orgie— Savage  Revelrie— 

A Free  Treat— The  Midnight  Shot — The  Council 100 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS* 


IX 


Page. 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

LAST  DAYS  OF  BOONE. 

Anecdote  Coni  inued — Warriors  Leave — Squaws  left  on  Guard — Become  Drunk 
— Boone  I urns  his  Bonds — His  First  Desire — Spares  the  Squaws’  Lives— 
Marks  a Ti  3e — A Disputed  Boundary — Boone’s  Tree  in  Question — Trip  to 
Green  Riv  r — Reflections  of  Boone — The  Changes  of  Thirty  Years — Iden- 
tifies his  Ti  ee — The  Law-Suit  Won — Conclusion  of  Audubon’s  Anecdote — 
Boone’s  De  bts  Paid — Willing  to  Die — Boone  Robbed — A Noble  Man — Col. 
Thomas  H irt’s  Letter— His  Opinion  of  Boone — Attacked  by  Osages — 
Forces  The  ui  to  Retreat — His  Want  of  Fear — Surrounded  by  Indians— A 
Close  Prise  ner — Boone’s  Petition  to  Congress — Miserly  Economy  of  that 
Body — Last  Days  of  Boone — Death  of  his  Wife — Boone's  Death — Action 
of  the  Missouri  Legislature — Kentucky’s  Tardy  Justice  106 

CHAPTER  IX. 

SIMON  KENTON. 

A Wonderful  Life — Date  of  Birth — His  Education — A Love  Affair — A Rival — 
Terribly  in  Earnest — A Battle — Foul  Play — Kenton  Worsted — Bides  his 
Time— A Second  Duel — His  Rival  left  for  Dead— His  Flight — The  Brand  of 
Cain — Finds  a Companion — Joins  an  Exploring  Party — Goes  Down  the 
Monongahela — Meets  Strader  and  Yeager — Yeager’s  Tales  of  Kan-Tuck-Ee 
— Character  of  Kenton — In  Search  of  Eldorado — A Futile  Voyage — Return 
— Attacked  by  Indians — Terrible  Sufferings— Voyage  Down  the  Ohio — 
Abandon  the  Canoes — A Second  Jonah — Kenton  Fears  to  Enter  Virginia — 
Cresap’s  Infamy— The  Paradise  Found — Visit  to  Blue  Licks — Settles  in 
Kentucky — Finds  Two  White  Men — One  Returns  to  the  Settlements — Hor- 
rible Fate  of  the  Other 112 


CHAPTER  X. 

A TERRIBLE  EXPERIENCE. 

Kenton’s  Rash  Bravery — A Wonderful  Adventure — Narrow  Escape — A Fresh 
Scalp — Kenton  Remains  in  the  Indian  Country — The  Captured  Horses — 
Escape — Reach  Logan’s  Fort — A Second  Expedition — Too  Great  Tempta- 
tion— A Slow  Pursuit — Attempt  to  Swim  the  Ohio — Frightened  Horses— 

The  Storm— A Day  and  Night  Lost — The  Height  of  Folly— Unparalleled 
Rashness — Their  Good  Genius  Wearied — Love  of  Horseflesh — Capture  of 
Kenton — Death  of  Montgomery — Clark  Escapes — Blackfish’s  Question — 
Abuse — Tormented  by  the  Savages — The  Renegade’s  Reply — Runs  the 
Gauntlet — Resolves  to  Escape — Too  Late — Haltered — Meets  Simon  Girty — 
Brutal  Treatment — “ What’s  in  a Name?'’ 120 

CHAPTER  XI. 

FREAKS  OF  FORTUNE. 

Girty’s  Surprise — An  Earnest  Appeal — Brothers-in-Arms — Effect  of  Girty’s 
Eloquence — The  Reply — The  Vote — Reprieve  of  Kenton — A Time  of  Rest 
— The  Distress  Hallo — Warm  Friends  Cooling — The  New  Council— Another 


X 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


Page. 

Trial — Kenton  Condemned — Girty’s  Efforts  in  his  Behalf — The  March  to 
Death — Girty’s  Last  Attempt — Failure — Escape  from  the  Gauntlet — An 
Irate  Indian — A Terrible  Wound — Indian  Humanity — Meeting  with  Logan 
His  Efforts  to  Aid  Kenton — A Remarkable  Man — Of  no  Avail — Driven  to 
Sandusky — The  Goal  of  Death — The  Stake  Prepared — Another  Rescue- 
Taken  to  Detroit 127 


CHAPTER  XII. 

DEATH  OF  KENTON. 

Treatment  at  Detroit — Resolves  to  Escape — Sounds  Two  Kentuckians — Kenton 
Obtains  Arms— A Friend  in  Need — Start  for  Kentucky — Travel  by  Night — 
Reach  Home — Considerations  of  Kenton’s  Conduct — His  After-Services — 
Learns  that  he  is  not  a Murderer — Yeitch  Alive — Drops  the  Name  of  But- 
ler— Returns  to  Virginia — Brings  his  Father’s  Family  to  Kentucky — Death 
of  the  Elder  Kenton — Becomes  a Major — Two  Anecdotes — Coming  of 
Peace — Troubles  of  Kenton — His  Last  Campaign — Misfortunes — Goes  to 
Kentucky — His  sad  Plight — Meets  an  Old  Comrade — The  Guest  of  Honor 
— A Successful  Mission — Death  of  Kenton 133 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  WETZELS. 

Their  Birthplace— Characters— Description  of  Lewis— A Terrible  Event— Taken 
by  Savages— Escape— A Boy’s  Bravery— On  the  Trail— Lewis  Kills  Three 
Indians — Tragic  Death  of  Thomas  Mills — “He  Gun  Always  Loaded” — The 
Death  of  a Hero— The  Avengers’  Oath— The  Scout  from  Wheeling — Retreat 
of  Whites — Lewis  Wetzel  Alone — Kills  an  Indian — A Hunt— Four  Indians 
“Treed”— One  Gets  Away— Murder  of  George  Washington— Harmer's 
Fury — Captain  Kingsbury  Attempts  to  Arrest  Wetzel — Narrow  Escape  of 
the  Officer— Captured  on  an  Island — Pines  in  Prison — Allowed  to  Exercise 
— Wetzel’s  Escape — Eager  Pursuit — Rejoins  his  Comrades 139 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

OTHER  EXPLOITS  OF  THE  WETZELS. 

Meeting  between  Wetzel  and  Kingsburry — Second  Capture  of  Wetzel— Writ  of 
Habeas  Corpus — Presented  with  a Rifle — Harmer’s  Position— The  Red 
Gobbler — A Feat  Attributed  to  Others— The  Dead  Indian— Rescues  Miss 
Betsy  Bryan — The  Daylight  Attack — Wetzel’s  Prowess — A Religious  Duty 
— A Deserted  Camp — Death  of  John  Madison — Escape  of  Louis  Wetzel — 
Goes  to  New  Orleans — Imprisoned  by  the  Spanish — Cause  unknown — With 
Lewis  and  Clark — Leaves  the  Expedition — Dies  in  Natchez — Ferocity  of 
Martin  Wetzel — The  Murdered  Chief — Slaughtering  Prisoners — Captured 
and  Adopted  by  Indians — Goes  on  a Hunt — Kills  Three  Companions — John 
Wetzel — Goes  on  a Foray — Capture  of  Indian  Horses — Illness  of  a Com- 
rade— The  Halt — A Night  Attack — Escape  of  Wetzel ]50 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


XI 


Page. 

CHAPTER  XY. 

GENERAL  GEORGE  ROGERS  CLARKE. 

His  Character  and  Talents— Judgment  and  Decision— His  Birth  and  Profession 
—Arrival  in  Kentucky— A Captain  at  Twenty-Three— Personal  Description 
—Final  Removal  to  Kentucky— The  Coming  Storm— Delegate  to  Virginia- 
Poor  Policy— A Last  Appeal— Disgusted— At  Last  Successful— The  County 
of  Kentucky — Ammunition  from  Fort  Pitt — Clarke’s  Statecraft  and  General- 
ship—His  Policy  of  Invasion— Marches  to  Illinois  and  Indiana— Father 
Gebault— French  Allies— Post  Garrisoned— Captain  Helm— Clarke’s  Diplo- 
macy— Demanding  Versus  Sueing— Indian  Anecdote — Detroit — Governor 
Hamilton — A Dangerous  Situation — British  Marching  on  Kaskaskia — 
Clarke’s  Conclusion 157 

CHAPTER  XYI. 

A TERRIBLE  MARCH. 

Noble  Kentuckians — Waist  Deep  in  Water — Unparalleled  Heroism — An  Inland 
Sea — Cold,  Hunger  and  Fatigue — On  to  Vincennes — A Forlorn  Hope— The 
Battle  Song — The  War  Whoop — The  Island  Rest — The  Frozen  Waters — A 
Timely  Rescue — In  Sight  of  Their  Goal — Captured  Citizens — A Desperate 
Situation— Victory  or  Death— The  Son  of  Tobacco— Clarke’s  Proclamation 
— Old  “Rough  and  Ready” — A Cunning  Maneuver — Siege  of  Vincennes — 
Surprise  of  Hamilton  — Bewildered  British  — Indians  Desert  to  Clarke — 
Stratagems  — Fears  of  Hamilton  — The  Flag  of  Truce— A Conference  — 
“Indian  Partisans” — Major  Hay  — Williams’  Capture — St.  Croix's  Son — 
Execution  of  Savages — The  Deadly  Aim  of  the  Kentuckians — Capitulation 
— Consequence — Clarke’s  Request — McIntosh’s  Eailure — Builds  Fort  Jef- 
ferson— Sent  to  Oppose  Benedict  Arnold — Authorized  to  Besiege  Detroit — 

An  Indian  Campaign — After  Exploits — His  Sufferings  and  Death — Reflec- 
tions  1GG 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

COLONEL  WILLIAM  CRAWFORD. 

Torture  at  the  Stake — Cannibalism — Considerations  of  its  Causes — The  Burn- 
ing of  Crawford — Who  He  Was — An  Ill-Fated  Expedition— Skulking  Sav- 
ages— Insubordination — 111  Omens — A Spirited  Attack — Fierce  Fighting — 
The  Second  Day’s  Battle — A Night  Retreat — Slover,  the  Guide — A Light 
Volley — The  Panic — “Save  Yourselves” — The  Pursuit — The  Indian  Toma- 
hawk— The  Heroic  Dr.  Knight — Crawford’s  Relations — A Foolish  Com- 
panion— Exhausted  Horses — Biggs  and  Ashley — A Violent  Rain  Storm — 
Find  a Deer — Another  Comrade — A Hearty  Breakfast — Crawford’s  Folly — 
The  Capture — Interview  With  Girty — Empty  Promises — Captain  Pipe — 
Wingenund — Typical  Indians— The  Insignia  of  Death— A Bitter  Enemy.. . 175 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  DEED  OF  DEMONS. 

Murdered  Prisoners — A Horrible  Hag — Death  of  Captain  McKinley — “Murder 
Most  Foul” — Girty’s  Salutation — The  Stake— The  Torture  Begins— Indian 


xii 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


Page. 

Devils— Hours  of  Torment— Incredible  Horrors — The  Part  Played  by  the 
Squaws— Crawford’s  Request— Refusal  of  the  Infamous  Renegade— Knight’s 
Sympathy— Nature’s  Respite— The  Acme  of  Torture— The  Tale  of  an  Eye- 
Witness — Remains  of  Crawford— Knight’s  Determination — A Solitary 
Guard — Mutual  Deception— A Pair  of  Brothers — Tormenting  Gnats — 
Friendly  Offices— A Feeble  Blow — A Whining  Warrior — A Munchausen 
Tale — Combat  With  a Giant — Knight’s  Dangers  and  Sufferings — A Glance 
at  the  Retreating  Command — Its  Escape — A Shameful  Disaster — Who  was 
Rose  ?— The  Russian  Baron — A Noble  Man— His  Death 183 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

COLONEL  BENJAMIN  LOGAN. 

His  Birth — Appearance — Mental  Qualities — A Generous  Action — Removes  to 
Tennessee — Marries — Goes  to  Kentucky — Fearlessness — Defends  His  Fort 
— A Gallant  Action — The  Close-Fitting  Skin — A Trembling  Giant — The 
Rescue — A Marvelous  Escape — A Perilous  Journey — Safe  Return — A Stub- 
born Defense — Arrival  of  Colonel  Bowman — Flight  of  Savages — Bowman’s 
Expedition — “Carrying  the  War  into  Africa” — Heroic  Officers — The  Indian 
Capitol — Plan  of  Battle — Dreary  Night  Watch — The  Village  Aroused — The 
Attack — Logan’s  Bravery — Cowardice  of  Bowman — McClung’s  Account — 
Undaunted  Heroes — A Fierce  Charge — Surrounded — Almost  a Panic — 
Logan’s  Popularity — Death  of  Moluntha — Our  Old  Friend  McGarry — 
Logan’s  Warning — Indians  Take  Name  of  Logan — Captain  Johnny — Tragic 
Death — A Furious  Fight — Logan’s  Services — A Noble  Man 191 

CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  BRADYS. 

Indian  Fighters — Samuel  Brady — A Warrior  at  Seventeen — Fate  of  his  Father 
and  Brother — Scout  to  Sandusky — Quick  Preparations — Cautious  Marching 
— Deserted  by  His  Chickasaw  Guides— Surmises — Soldiers  Mutiny — A Night 
Adventure — A Bold  Move — His  Object  Accomplished — Out  of  Ammunition 
— Brady  Chosen  Hunter — The  Last  Load — The  Rabbit  and  the  Deer — 
Startled — The  Indian  Captives — Brady’s  Plans — The  Deed  of  a Hero — The 
Dead  Chief — Frightened  Savages — A Bewildered  Woman — Deserted  by  His 
Men — Safe  Return — His  Next  Scout — Phouts  and  the  Good  Indian — The 
Irate  Captain — The  Explanation 201 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

OTHER  ADVENTURES  OF  BRADY. 

Return  to  Pittsburg — Nipped  in  the  Bud— Brady  Trapped— Joy  of  the  Savages 
— A Terrific  Leap — Safety — Astonished  Indians — Another  Exploit — Indians 
Surprised — The  Indian  Ambush — Brady’s  Wisdom — Brady  Taken  In — The 
Deserted  Camp— The  Ready  Feast — Murdered  Comrades — Brady  Captured 
— Marched  to  the  Villages — Runs  the  Gauntlet — Terribly  Beaten — The 
Stake— The  Fires  Lighted— The  Torture  Begins— A Stoic  Philosopher — 
Indian  Etiquette — The  Barbarous  Squaw — Once  Too  Often— Her  Child  in 
the  Fire — General  Dismay— A Dash  for  Liberty— Escape  of  Brady-< 
Reaches  Pittsburg  in  Safety 207 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


XIII 


Page. 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

JAMES  AND  JOHN  BRADY. 

A Short  Career — A Young  Hero — Wounded — Visited  by  His  Brother — His 
Determination — Inglorious  Inaction— Armed  Harvesters — Brady  Chosen 
Captain — Plan  of  Operations — The  Indian  Attack — One  Against  Many — 
Flying  Comrades— A Gallant  Fight — Slays  Three  Savages — Tomahawked 
and  Scalped — Return  of  Indians — Tomahawked  Again — Crawls  From  the 
Field — A Faithful  Friend— Immense  Vitality — The  Alarm — Brady’s  Noble 
Character — Identifies  His  Slayers— His  Death — Avenged — John  Brady — His 
Services — Acts  as  Ambassador — A Stupid  Dutchman — Drunken  Indians — 
The  Threat — The  Convoy — The  Fatal  Forks — An  Old  Reminiscence — The 
Scarred  Face — No  Idle  Threat — Death  of  John  Brady — Smith’s  Escape — A 
Marked  Murderer — Long  Delayed  Vengeance 213 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

JAMES  HARROD. 

Love  of  Solitude — Brave  and  Gentle — His  Strength  and  Daring — His  Melancholy 
End — Date  of  Arrival  in  Kentucky — Battle  of  Point  Pleasant — A Place  of 
Refuge — An  Encounter  With  McGarry — An  Indian  Massacre — Harrod  to 
the  Rescue — On  an  Indian  Trail — The  Camp-Fire — Plans  an  Attack — Immi- 
nent Peril — A Delayed  Attack— The  Sleeping  Guard — The  Tiger’s  Spring — 
Kills  Four  Indians — The  Rescued  Girls — The  Roar  of  a Lion— Deer  Stalk- 
ing— Nobler  Game — A Fierce  Combat — Slays  Three  Savages — Pursued  by 
Indians — His  Cunning  Stratagem — Between  Two  Fires — A Wonderful 
Escape — In  the  Indian  Village — A Hand-to-Hand  Fight — Harrod  Tri- 
umphant— A Colonel’s  Commission — His  Mysterious  Fate 219 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

JOHN  SLOVER. 

His  Birthplace — Early  Capture — Adopted  and  Reared  by  Indians — Reluctance 
to  Join  His  Kindred  — Scout  and  Sharpshooter  — With  Crawford’s 
Expedition— Left  to  His  Fate — His  Flight — In  the  Swamp— Other  Difficul- 
ties— The  Indian  Whoop — A Vast  Prairie — Indian  Approach — Escapes 
Observation — The  Storm — Lame  Comrades — A Skirmish — The  Surrender — 
Escape  of  John  Paul — A Brave  Boy — Broken  Promises — Terribly  Abused — 
The  Gauntlet — An  Unavailing  Struggle — Tortured  Comrades — Crawford’s 
Relations — Fate  of  a Second  Comrade — James  Girty’s  Lies — Slover’s  News 
— A Friendly  Squaw — Slover’s  Doom 227 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

BENE  AM  AND  TAYLOR. 

Conclusion  of  Slover’s  Adventure — His  Removal — Tied  to  the  Stake — His  Deter- 
mined Bravery — An  Opportune  Storm — A Miraculous  Respite — Delayed 
Vengeance — Job’s  Comforters — Terribly  Beaten — A Night  of  AgGuy— 
Talkative  Indian — His  Advice — Patience  Rewarded — Mental  Torture — Fr«t 
at  Last— The  Noble  Steed— The  Chase — Sufferings— Reaches  Wheeling— 


XIV 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


Page. 

Benham  and  Taylor — The  Keel-Boats — Wiles  and  Stratagems — A Disas- 
trous Fight — The  Captured  Boats — A Strange  Fatality — Broken  Arms  and 
Broken  Legs — Co-Operative  Labor— A Precarious  Subsistence— A Special 
Providence — The  Passing  Boat — The  Earnest  Appeal — The  Final  Rescue — A 
Romantic  Tale — Services  of  Benham 234 

CHAPTER  XXYI. 

MORGAN  AND  POE. 

A Venturesome  Man — “Elbow  Room” — Prowling  Indians — A Presentiment — 
The  Three  Savages — A Long  Shot — Morgan’s  Retreat — Kills  a Second 
Indian — Rifle  and  Tomahawk — Hand  to  Hand  Fight — The  Unequal  Com- 
bat— Morgan  Down — The  Indian’s  Theft — A Death  Grip — The  Search  for 
the  Knife — The  Fatal  Apron — The  Death  Struggle — A Terrible  Stroke — 
Morgan  Reaches  Home — The  Neighborhood  Aroused — The  Wounded  Indian 
— His  Death — Adam  Poe — An  Indian  Raid — The  Great  Chief,  Big  Foot — A 
Band  of  Brothers — The  Pursuit — A Flash  in  the  Pan — A Bold  Move — The 
Panther’s  Spring — A Fearful  Struggle — A Powerful  Antagonist — The  Kick 
— Poe  Kills  One  Indian — The  Fight  in  the  Water — The  Swimming  Match — 
Poe  Wounded  by  a Comrade — Arrival  of  Poe’s  Brother — The  Loading  Con- 
test— Too  Great  Haste — Death  of  Big  Foot — The  Lost  Scalp — All  of  the 
Indians  Killed 240 

CHAPTER  XX VIE 

DE  SOTO. 

Ponce  De  Leon — The  Fountain  of  Youth — The  Arkansas  Hot  Springs — Discov- 
erer of  the  Mississippi — Character  of  De  Soto — His  Sordid  Purpose — Search 
for  Treasure — Wins  a Wife — A Comrade  of  Pizarro — The  Spoils  of  Cuzco — 

De  Soto’s  Expedition — Mobile — A Heavy  Battle— De  Soto  Victorious — Dis- 
covers the  Mississippi — Fleet  of  Canoes — Crosses  the  Mississippi — Visits 
Missouri— On  White  River — An  Unbroken  Wilderness — Spanish  Brutality — 
Fatal  Fevers — Illness  of  De  Soto — Appoints  a Successor — Death  of  De  Soto 
— His  Last  Resting  Place — Fate  of  his  Comrades — A Broken  Heart — Donna 
Anna’s  Death ,-247 


CHAPTER  XX Yin. 

HEROIC  WOMEN. 

Courage  of  the  Softer  Sex — Michelet’s  Opinion— Story  of  Jael — The  Warlike 
Semiramis — Boadicea  and  Isabella — Heroines  of  America  Compared  with 
Those  of  Other  Lands — Part  Played  by  Border  Women — Our  Duty — Van- 
ishing Veterans — Mrs.  Parker — Her  Family — A Fatal  Hunt — The  Lying 
Indian — The  Boy  Messenger — Preparations  for  a Siege — The  Simulated 
Voice — Detection — The  Attack  on  the  Cabin — An  Indian  Killed — The 
Women’s  Ruse — Its  Success — The  Volley — The  Battering  Ram — Another 
Indian  Killed — Flight  of  the  Third  Savage — The  Women  Prepare  to  Leave — 
Their  Privations — Escape  to  St.  Louis — Search  for  the  Missing  Men — A 
Former  Adventure— Its  Lucky  Termination 254 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


XV 


Page. 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

BETTY  ZANE. 

The  Siege  of  Wheeling — British  and  Indians — The  Infamous  Girty — Surrounded 
—Promises  and  Threats — Captain  Boggs  goes  for  Reinforcements — Girtv’s 
Parley — His  Lies — A Destructive  Cannon— A Fierce  Siege — Noble  Conduct 
of  the  Women — Indian  Artillery — Its  Trial — A Disastrous  Discharge — Out 
of  Powder— A School-Girl  Heroine — Her  Brave  Deed— The  Flight  of 
Atalanta — Escapes  Unhurt — The  Siege  Raised — Flight  of  the  Indians — 
Mrs.  Cruger’s  Statement — What  it  Proves — Who  Mrs.  Cruger  was — Present 
at  this  Siege 202 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

MRS.  PURSLEY. 

Obscure  Heroes — Want  of  Opportunity — Suggestive  Names — A Woman’s 
Prisoner — A Frontier  Fort — The  Sally — Ambushed — Flight  to  the  Fort — 
Bold  Thomas  Higgins — A Frontier  Dare-Devil — His  Determination — A 
Wounded  Comrade — A Frightened  Horse — The  Retreat  Covered — Swarm- 
ing Savages — Three  to  One — Badly  Wounded — Struck  Again — Receives 
Three  More  Bullets — Kills  one  Indian — Desperate  Situation — Hand-to 
Hand  Combat — Covered  with  Wounds — A Terrible  Tomahawk  Wound — 
Higgins  Down — Rush  of  the  Two  Indians — A Fierce  Struggle — Brains 
Another  Savage — The  Search  for  the  Rifle — The  Knife  Combat — A Demi- 
God’s  Courage — Higgins  Down  Again — A Losing  Fight — Approach  of 
Savages — Mrs.  Pursley’s  Prayers — Her  Heroic  Attempt— A Shamed  Garri- 
son— Higgins  Saved 267 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

MISS  WASHBURN. 

Lovely  Landscapes — Mount  Pleasant — Gathering  Indians — Their  Amusements 
— The  Two  Spies — Their  Perilous  Position — Out  of  Water — McLellan’s 
Venture — Turn  About — White’s  Adventure — The  White  Squaw — Forced  to 
Kill  the  Other — The  Flight — Discovery  of  the  Dead  Body — The  Pursuit — 
Surrounded — A Fierce  Attack — The  Missing  Girl — The  Unguarded  Spot — 
The  Indian  Discovery — A Long  Range — A Broken  Flint— The  Warrior’s 
Leap — The  Mysterious  Shot — The  Gulf  of  Death — Another  Attempt — The 
Shout  of  Triumph — Disheartened  Savages — The  Mysterious  Marksman — 
The  Attempt  at  Escape — A Daring  Guide — Through  the  Indian  Village 
— Safety — Great  Hardships — A Brave  Girl 273 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

MRS.  DAYIESS  AND  MRS.  PORTER. 

Birth-Place  of  Mrs.  Daviess — Removes  to  Kentucky — The  Early  Bird — A Rapid 
Flight — Friends  to  the  Rescue — A Covered  Trail — The  Wounded  Dog — 
The  Enemy  in  Sight — Conduct  of  the  Savages — A Boy  Scalped — The  Rest 
Unharmed — A Woman's  Wit — A Long  Dress — Forethought  of  a Mother — 
Her  Intentions — Fate  of  the  Scalped  Boy — Terribly  Disfigured — Death  of 


XVI 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


Page. 

Young  Daviess — Another  Incident — The  Desperado — His  Capture — The 
Skulking  Indian — Mrs.  Daviess  Saves  her  Husband’s  Life — Mrs.  Porter — 
Pontiac’s  War — A Pennsylvania  Heroine — The  Absent  Husband — Indians 
in  Sight — Sword  and  Rifle — The  Sabre’s  Stroke — Two  Indians  Killed — The 
Third  Shot — Reaches  her  Husband — Rifled  and  Burned — The  Indian’s 
Remains — A Woman’s  Bravery 281 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

MRS.  MERRILL  AND  WAR- WOMAN  CREEK. 

The  Most  Remarkable  Feat  on  Record — The  Night  Attack— The  House  Sur- 
rounded— A Faithful  Dog — The  Open  Door — Mr.  Merrill  Wounded — The 
Barricade — A Weak  Garrison — The  Breach  Effected — A Kentucky  Amazon 
Her  Heroic  Defense — Four  Indians  Killed — A Division — Two  Indians  Try 
The  Chimney — The  Feather  Tick — Suffocated  Savages — Two  More  Slaugh- 
tered— The  Seventh  Wounded — His  Flight— A Tale  of  Terror— The  Giant 
Squaw — An  Immense  Tomahawk — War- Woman  Creek — An  Indian  Legend 
— A Deed  of  Blood — A Bereaved  Mother — Left  for  Dead — The  Desire  for 
Vengeance — On  the  Trail — The  Indian  Camp — The  Hunter  and  the  Hunted 
— A Righteous  Fury — Death  of  the  Indians — Rebounding  Cruelty — Death 
of  the  White  Woman — Reaping  the  Whirlwind 288 

CHAPTER  XXXI Y. 

HEROIC  CHILDREN. 

The  Johnson  Boys — Childish  Play — Indians  in  Disguise — The  Capture — The 
Camp  at  Night — Close  Prisoners — The  Release — A Plan  to  Kill  the  Indians 
— The  Little  Trembler — A Gallant  Youth— Flight  Towards  Home— The 
Elder  Johnson’s  Plan — A Wonderful  Tale — Incredulity — A Visit  to  the 
Camp — One  Dead  Indian — One  Terribly  Wounded — Escape  of  the  Latter — 
Young  Darke — Rabbit  Hunting — Nobler  Game — An  Infuriated  Panther — 
Savage  Combat — Darke  to  the  Rescue — Desperate  Bravery — St.  Clair’s 
Defeat — A Furious  Charge — Miraculous  Escapes — Darkens  Appearance — 
Cuts  Down  a Savage — His  Services — Young  Bingaman — A Giant’s  Battle — 

A Fearless  Settler— Cabin  Surprised — A Cowardly  Hand — A Wounded 
Woman — Seven  Indians  Killed  With  a Rifle  Barrel — Pursuit  of  Indians — 
The  Premature  Attack— The  Envious  Captain— T Reproof— The  Childish 
Prisoner — Brutally  Abused  — Bold  Determination  —Attack  Postponed — 
Regrets— Two  at  a Shot— The  Dead  and  Wounded — The  Boy’s  Revenge — 
Safe  at  Home 294 


CHAPTER  XXX Y. 

MIKE  FINK— THE  LAST  OF  THE  FLATBOATMEN. 

Batteau  and  Barge — Keel  and  Flatboat — Era  of  Steam — “Roaring  Ralph  Stack- 
pole’' — Bravery — Their  Quaintness — Their  Hard  Life — Excesses — Fink’s 
Birthplace — Drinking  Bouts — Shooting  Matches — Horse  Talk — Jokes  Made 
to  Laugh  at — An  Adventure  at  Westport — The  Quiet  Stranger — Fink  Furi- 
ous— The  Ground  Scuffle  — Fink  Whipped — “Calf  Rope” — Ordered  to 
Leave— Feats  of  Marksmanship— The  Negro’s  Heel — A Genteel  Boot — Fink. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


XVII 


Jealous — The  Nest  of  Leaves — Peg’s  Punishment — Talbot  and  Carpenter — 

Up  the  Missouri — Trapping — The  Quarrel — The  Reconciliation — A Brutal 
Murder — The  Unlucky  Boast — Retribution — Death  of  Talbot 303 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

BILL  SEDLEY. 

A Typical  Boatman — A Gigantic  Kentuckian — The  Under  Dog — “Cock  of  the 
Walk” — His  Strength  and  Skill — Pure  Whisky — Gambling — New  Orleans 
in  Flat-Boating  Days — Saloons — “The  Swamp” — Mother  Colby’s  “Shore 
Nuff  Hotel” — “Ride  and  Tie” — Poling  and  Cordelling — Natchez  Under 
the  Hill — Bowie’s  Battle — The  Bowie  Knife — Its  Christening — Sedley’s 
Exploit — A Famous  Combat — The  Cortinas  Brothers — Desperadoes — 
Cleaned  Out  by  Gamblers — The  Cheat  Detected — “I’m  a Salt  River 
Roarer” — The  Door  Barred — “The  Painter’s  Playmate” — The  Roar  of 
Combat — Two  to  One — The  Open  Door — The  Dying  Gamblers — Sedley’s 
Invitation — Sedley’s  Wounds  Dressed — Flight  to  Kentucky — Reforms — A 
Good  Old  Age 309 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

THE  PIONEER  PREACHER. 

“The  Glad  Tidings” — Their  Bravery — “Anotherfor  Hector” — Their  Influence — 
The  First  Temples — Their  Congregations — Rude  Furniture — A Typical 
Pioneer  Preacher — Peter  Cartwright — Birth  and  Youth — Removal  to  Ken- 
tucky—Camp  in  the  Wilderness — The  Indian  Spy — A Vigilant  Sentinel — 
Survivor  of  the  Indian  Ambush — Murdered  Families — Righteous  Retribu- 
tion— A Hard  Youth — Cane  Ridge — The  First  Camp -Meeting — Strength  of 
the  Western  Church — James  Haw  and  Benjamin  Ogle — A Laughable 
Occurrence — The  Sleeper — The  Trained  Lamb — The  Challenge — The  Col- 
lision— “Take  Up  Your  Cross” — The  Dutch  Disciple 315 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

PETER  CARTWRIGHT. 

The  “Jerks” — A Strange  Affection — Its  Treatment — A Believer  in  Voodoo — 
Threatened  Vengeance — Put  to  Flight — Killed  by  the  Jerks — The  Flying 
Jew — Cartwright’s  Flood — The  Physician  Convinced — A Two, -sided  Illus- 
tration— The  City  Preacher — General  Jackson  in  Church — Cartwright’s 
Retort — On  a Trip — Finds  a Pistol — Adventure  With  a Highwayman — The 
Robber  Dismayed— The  Toll-Gate  Bully — Finds  the  Wrong  Man— The 
Frightened  Negro — Through  the  Gate — The  Furious  Landlord — Cartwright 
Incensed — Catching  a Tartar 323 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

PIONEER  INCIDENTS. 

A Steamboat  Trip — The  Old  “Velocipede” — Cartwright’s  Companion — 
Untimely  Zeal — Major  Biddle — Killing  Time — Captain  Waters — Proposal 
for  Debate — Disputed  Authorities — Waters  Loses  his  Temper — The  Row — 
Cartwright’s  Champion— Fast  Friends — A “Close”  Brother — A Miser 
Reproved — Proud  Preachers — The  Reform — An  Illinois  Xantippe — A Kind 


xvur 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


Page. 

Husband — Cartwright’s  Visit — A Nice  Christian  —Ejected — Begs  to  Enter 
— Repentant — Plaii?  Words — Soundly  Converted — Opinion  of  “Hot-House 
Preachers” — A Joke  at  his  Own  Expense — Description  of  the  Pioneer 
Preacher — 330 

CHAPTER  XL. 

“OLD  JIMMIE”  AXLEY. 

Brutal  Bullies — Scenes  at  a Camp-meeting — A Minister  Knocked  Down- 
Rally  of  the  Rowdies — Birkhammer — The  Church  Militant — The  Sheriff’s 
Posse — “Old  Jimmie”  Axley — A Disappointed  Congregation — “Old  Jim- 
mie’s Reproofs— Bad  Conduct — The  Noisy  Man— The  Vain  Girl— The 
Sleepy  Individual — The  Tobacco  Chewer — Better  Behavior — Earnest  and 
Honest — Primitive  Churches — Their  Accommodations — The  Music — Inno- 
vations of  Young  America — “Glendenning’s  March” — Another  Anecdote  of 
Peter  Cartwright — Scoffers — “Another  Sinner  Down” — Converted. 335 

CHAPTER  XLI. 

PIONEER  SCHOOLS  AND  SUNDAY  SCHOOLS. 

Log  Cabin  School-Houses — The  Seat  of  Honor — Clay,  Calhoun  and  Webster — 
The  Pioneer  Pedagogue — Solomon’s  Maxim — The  Scholars — The  Unlucky 
Boy — The  Mischievous  Scholar — The  Little  Belle — Chinese  Civilization — 
Macauley’s  New  Zealander — Golden  Youth — The  Pioneer  Sunday  School — 

Its  Scope — Love  and  Duty — The  Teachers — Tender  Maidens — Enthusiastic 
Praises — The  Bible  Class — Future  Statesmen— “Mother’s  in  Israel” — Sun- 
day-School Missionary  Labor — “Pike’s  Run” — Ingersoll’s  Labor — Cheer- 
ful Givers — An  Acceptable  Present — The  Horse  Jockey — Petty  Thieving — 

A Perfect  Success — A Church  Formed 345 


PART  II. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  PLAINS. 

N ecessary  Excitement — Adam  Poe’s  Remark — Kentucky’s  Halcyon  Days — The 
Pioneer  Trapper — A Bare  Poll — Lewis  Wetzel’s  Imprisonment— Robert 
McLellan — Leatherstoekings — The  Pawnees — The  Great  American  Desert 
— Childish  Longings— Trapping  and  Hunting— Day  Dreams— Indians, 
Half-Breeds  and  “Squaw  Men” — Scholars  and  Desperadoes — Mountain 
Men — Rare  Surgeons— A Rude  Operation — Ranchmen  and  Ranches — The 
Dug-Out — Plains  Architecture — Adobes — Merchants  and  Merchandise — 
Trading  Cattle  — Fresh  Steers  — Plundered  Pilgrims  — A Remunerative 
Trade 355 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS, 


XIX 


Page. 

CHAPTER  II. 

PLAINS  CHARACTERS. 

Indian  Traders — Jack  Morrow — Corlew  and  Kirby — “The  Pilgrim'” — His  Other 
Cognomens — His  Salutation — The  Bullwhacker — Whips  and  Tricks — Gam- 
blers— The  Stage  Driver — An  Autocrat — Indian  Courtesans — Savage  Cus- 
toms— Old  Jo  Roubidoux — Vanished  Seas — Imperishable  Cedars — Sunken 
Canons — Indian  Legends — Grasses — Trees — Their  Use  as  Sepulchres — Wil- 
low and  Cactus — Plains  Game — A Happy  Family — Prairie  Dogs  and  Their 
Guests — The  Amiable  Pole-Cat — A Deadly  Poison — Certain  Death — A Sor- 
did Creature — The  Buffalo  Hunter — His  Greed  for  Money — Home  of  the 
Buffalo — Railway  Corporations— Prospectors — Amateur  Plainsmen — Men 
in  Buckskin 361 


CHAPTER  III. 

INDIAN  ATROCITIES. 

Plains  Cities — Dead  Men  for  Breakfast — Well  Filled  Graveyards — The  Pet  of 
the  Bureau — A Terrible  Fate— The  Western  Ishmaelite — Old  Bob  Carson — 
His  Lonely  Grave— The  Camp  of  Death — Horrible  Outrages— The  Indian’s 
Reward — Infamy  of  the  Indian  Department — A Refuge  of  Thieves  and 
Imbeciles — Responsible  for  Rapine  and  Murder — Duty  of  Congressmen — 
Itching  Palms — Thieving  Agents — Incompetent  Commissions — The  Agent’s 
Agents — Junketing — A Passing  Pageantry — The  Early  Trappers — Their 
Lives  and  Hardships — Who  They  Were — Bogus  Pathfinders — The  Jesuit — 
Gold  Discovery — A Solitary  Life — Rugged  Grandeur — Extravagant  Ideas — 
Mountain  Camps — Bonanza  Kings — Scientists 370 

CHAPTER  IV. 

ROBERT  M’LELLAN. 

Early  Plains  Pioneers— A Former  Scout — His  Strength  and  Agility — Kennan’s 
Feat — Innumerable  Adventures — Reckless  Bravery — The  Night  Attack — 
May  Butchered — Wells  and  McLellan  Wounded — Four  Indians  Killed — 
Another  Adventure — The  White  Indian — A Venturesome  Leap — Providen- 
tial Escape — Clark  Meets  McLellan — Opinion  of  Rival  Traders — A Lucra- 
tive Business— Valuable  Information — Two  Paths  in  Life — Partnership 
With  Crooks — Envious  Rivals — Indian  Demands — McLellan’s  Obstinacy — 
Manuel  Lisa — The  Sioux  Raid — McLellan’s  Daring  Feat — Leaves  His  Post 
— Meets  and  Joins  Another  Party — “A  Sop  to  Cerebus” — Up  the  River — 

La  Cotah  Land — Lisa’s  Proposal— Hunt’s  Artillery— Salutary  Effect — Pres- 
ents— Indian  Hypocricy— Irate  Savages — The  Arickaras — A Friendly 
Greeting 380 

CHAPTER  V. 

A TERRIBLE  MARCH. 

Object  of  the  Arickaras  — Unwelcome  News — Lisa’s  Arrival  — McLellan’s 
Restraint — More  Trickery  of  Lisa — McLellan  Lays  Down  the  Law — A 
Warning— Its  Good  Effect— A Terrible  Undertaking — Lisa’s  Prophecy — The 


XX 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


Page. 

Big  Horn  Mountains — The  Friendly  Cheyennes — Well  Deserved  Presents — 
The  Adieu — A Description  of  the  Crows — Horse  Trading — Increasing  Diffi- 
culties— Days  of  Danger — Nights  of  Torment — Mad  River — Abundance  of 
Bame — Resume  Their  Journey— Henry’s  Post  — Voyage  Down  Mad  River — 
The  Rapids — Terrible  Whirlpools — The  Way  Blocked — Desperate  Condition 
- -Separation — Two  Parties  Meet — McLellan  Chosen  Leader — Barren  Moun- 
tains—Extinct  Volcanoes — Tortures  of  Tantalus — Dying  of  Hunger — Plenty 
>f  Game  in  Sight — An  Impassable  Barrier — In  Despair — The  Snow  Storm- 
Camp  of  the  Dying — The  Lone  Buffalo — McLellan’s  Shot — A Timely  Sup- 
ply— Reach  the  Columbia — Fate  of  the  Expedition  by  Sea — Arrival  of 
Comrades 388 


CHAPTER  VI. 

ON  THE  RETURN. 

Want’s  Determination — McTellan’s  Dissatisfaction — His  Obstinacy — The  Return 
Party — Thievish  Savages — McLellan’s  Stratagem — The  Night  Portage — 
Furious  Indians — The  Attack — McLellan’s  Courage — A Desperate  Charge 
—Retreat  to  Astoria — Reed  Badly  Wounded— Dispatches  Lost — Another 
Party  Sets  Out — Stuart  in  Charge — Crooks  also  Dissatisfied  with  Hunt — 
Joins  the  Return  Party — A New  Route — Visit  their  Cache — Find  it  Robbed 
—A  Barren  Land — The  Crow  Country — The  Two  Spies — Narrow  Escape 
from  Massacre — Lose  All  of  Their  Horses — Cache  their  Packs — Journey 
©n  Foot — Abundance  of  Game — Reach  Mad  River — The  Blackfeet — Take 
to  the  Mountains — McLellan’s  Rage — Discards  his  Burden 335 

CHAPTER  VII. 

DEATH  OF  M’LELLAN. 

A General  Favorite — McLellan’s  Irritability — A Sad  Adieu — Alone  in  the  Wil- 
derness— The  Onward  March— The  Sight  From  the  Mountain  Top — Stuart’s 
Tribute— A Deserted  Land — A Meager  Meal — Traces  of  McLellan — Despair 
of  Stuart's  Men — The  Distant  Camp-Fire — The  Messenger — News  of  Mc- 
Lellan— The  Rescue — The  Terrible  Proposal — The  Canadian  Rebuked — 
Fortune  Smiles — Fearful  Anticipations — Hospitable  Indians — Their  Kind- 
ness— The  Approaching  Winter — Nearing  the  Platte  River — Plenty  of  Game 
— The  Log  Cabin — Providing  for  the  Future — Surrounded  by  Savages — Mc- 
Lellan’s Joy — Negotiations — Between  Two  Fires — Conclude  to  Remove — 
Suffer  Greatly — Another  Camp — The  Coming  of  Spring — Try  Canoeing — 
Unfit  for  Navigation — The  Tramp  to  the  Missouri — Plenty  cf  Game — Stale 
News — Lisa’s  Dead  Men — McLellan  Opens  a Store  at  Cape  Girardeau — His 
Death  at  that  Point 400 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

THOMAS  EDDIE — THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRAPPERS. 

Ashley’s  Rocky  Mountain  Fur  Company — Character  of  Eddie — Still  Living — 

A Pleasant  Drive — A Fund  of  Information — Frontier  Justice — Indian 
Revenge — Renegade  Rose — His  Advice — Ashley’s  Want  of  Caution — Eddie’s 
Opinion  of  Rose — A Crow  Chief — Three  Men  Murdered — Open  Hostilities— 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


XXI 


Page. 

The  Ambush  and  Attack — Flight  for  the  Boats — Shot  and  Drowned — Thd 
Retreat — Send  for  Reinforcements — Sioux  and  Soldiers  to  the  Rescue — The 
Charge  on  the  Village — The  Hand-To-Hand  Combat  of  White  Bear  and  the 
Arickara  Chief — The  Village  Burned — The  Arickaras  Dispersed — White  Bear 
Lionized — Eddie  and  Thirteen  Comrades  go  to  the  Yellowstone — Winter  in 
a Crow  Village — The  Blackfeet — Savage  Signals — On  the  Pacific  Slope — 
Terrible  Privations — Discover  the  Great  Salt  Lake — On  the  Columbia — 
Amongst  the  Utes — A Ute  Custom — Death  of  the  Good  Chief,  Pirn — His 
Burial — A Strange  Request — The  Return  East — Daily  Skirmishes 407 

CHAPTER  IX. 

BATTLES  AND  DISASTERS. 

Ambushed  by  Blackfeet — Eddie  Severely  Wounded — Others  Injured — Besieged 
on  a Crag — Blackfeet  Beaten — A Successful  Stratagem — Baffled  Savages — 
Horse  Thieves — The  Race  for  the  Pass — The  Trappers  Win — Thieves  Slain 
— Stock  Recovered — Indians  Disappear — “Old  Bill”  Williams’  Idea — 
Adventure  of  Gordon  and  Eddie — Indians  Outwitted — Eddie’s  Single- 
Handed  Fight  with  a Gigantic  Indian — Complications — A Terrible  Wound 
— Eddie  Triumphant — Five  Indians  Killed — Seven  Men  Sent  to  Santa  Fe — 
Never  Return — Others  Make  Their  Way  Back  to  the  Yellowstone — In  Camp 
— Amusements — Eddie  Returns  to  St.  Louis — Purchases  the  Old  Green 
Tree  Tavern — Marries  Miss  Clark — A St.  Louis  Belle — Removes  to  His 
Farm — A Large  Family — A Beautiful  Home — His  Children — A Wonderful 
Man 416 


CHAPTER  X. 

COLTER’S  RACE  FOR  LIFE. 

With  Lewis  and  Clark — His  Partner,  Potts — They  Stop  on  the  Upper  Missouri 
— Lewis  Kills  a Blackfoot — Vengeful  Savages — Colter’s  Plan — The  Alarm 
— Potts’  Ridicule — Surrounded — Captured — Colter’s  Struggle  with  the 
Indian — Potts’  Folly — Killed — His  Revenge — Colter  Stripped  Yaked — 
Indians  Deliberate  as  to  His  Fate — Various  Plans — The  Decision — The 
Question — Colter’s  Reply — A Poor  Runner — The  Start — Surprised  Savages 
— Colter’s  Disadvantage — A Fleet  Blackfoot — An  Unexpected  Action — The 
Broken  Spear — Pinned  to  the  Earth — Flight  Renewed — Halt  of  the  Black- 
feet— Pursuit  Renewed — Colter  Reaches  Jefferson’s  Fork — Hides  in  the 
Drift  Pile — Searching  Savages — Disappointed — The  Drift  Deserted — Colter’s 
Pitiable  Plight — Reaches  Lisa’s  Fort — Terrible  Sufferings — Regains  His 
Strength 422 

CHAPTER  XI. 

BILL  GORDON. 

A Laughing  Philosopher — A Cheerful  Comrade — His  Adventure  at  the  Arick- 
ara Village — Saves  an  old  Squaw — Curse  or  Blessing? — Camp-Fire  Anec- 
dotes— Wondering  Savages — Glass’  Adventure  with  a Grizzly  Bear — A One- 
Sided  Battle — Desperately  Wounded — Nature’s  Medicament — Left  to  Die — 
Faithless  Nurses— A Great  Surprise — Gordon’s  Ire— An  Interrupted  Siesta — 


XXII 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


Page. 

Smith  Finds  a Grizzly — The  Result — Gets  Well — George  Yule’s  Adventure 
— His  Retreat  to  Camp — Narrow  Escape — Old  Sloan  Range — Lyme  Chaney, 
the  Trapper — Kills  a Grizzly — Gid  Frazier — A Famous  Bear  Hunter — An 
Authority  on  Grizzlies — Gordon  and  “Old  Bill”  Williams  on  a Hunt — Sep- 
arate— The  Shot — The  Volley — A Swift  Retreat — A Dead  Chief — The  Last 
Resort — Trappers  Swim  the  Columbia — Lose  their  Arms — Reach  a Post — 
Procure  Rifles — Return  to  Salt  Lake — A Familiar  Voice — Find  Old  Bill — • 

On  a Hunt 427 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THRILLING  ADVENTURES  AND  DEATH  OF  GORDON. 

An  Unlucky  Detour — An  Injured  Comrade — Further  Misfortunes — The  Black- 
foot  Spy — His  Death — “Old  Bill’s  Remark — Gordon’s  Prophecy — The 
Retreat — The  Morning  Call — Pursued  by  Blackfeet — A Trying  Situation — 
Sufferings  of  Lajeunesse — The  Fortified  Camp — A Courageous  Indian — 
Gordon’s  Determination — Reaches  the  Crag — Death  of  the  Chief — Gordon 
Kills  Four  Indians — His  Stratagem  Discovered — A Fierce  Rush — An 
Intrepid  Defense — Retreat  of  the  Indians — Signal  Fires — Anxiety  of  Gor- 
don— Concludes  to  Retreat — “Old  Bill’s”  Obstinacy — Across  the  Mountains 
—Rejoin  their  Comrades — Attack  on  the  Wagon  Train — Indian  Fear  of 
Gordon — Their  Flight — Daily  Battles — Gordon’s  Death  on  the  Yellow- 
stone— His  Prophecy  Fulfilled . 433 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

“PEG  LEG”  SMITH. 

Smith  and  His  Horse,  Jim  Crow — St.  Louis  Anecdotes— Inseparable  Friends— 

A Frequenter  of  Bar-Rooms — The  Various  Uses  of  a Wooden  Leg — Scat- 
tering a Crowd — Reversing  a Bully — A Trip  to  New  Orleans— Sleeps  with 
His  Horse — Frequents  “The  Swamp”— Bogart’s  Coffee-House — A One-Le-g 
ged  Centaur — The  Constable  and  his  Posse — Flight  from  St.  Louis— Check- 
mates his  Pursuers — Reaches  Independence — Returns  to  the  Mountains— 

A Plains  Pioneer — A Desperate  Adventure — A Sharp  Trick — The  Escape- 
Duel  with  the  Sioux  Chief — They  Become  Friends— A Brave  Escort — In  a 
Precarious  Condition — Turns  Hunter  for  a Post — Goes  to  San  Francisco- 
Extreme  Poverty — A Common  Drunkard — A Pitiable  Spectacle— End  of  a 
Hero •••• . 441 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

“OLD  BILL”  WILLIAMS. 

A Native  of  Tennessee — An  Old  Scout — A Born  Warrior — Rose,  the  Renegade 
— One  of  Murrell’s  Land  Pirates — A Mysterious  Man — His  Daring  Deeds — 
His  Generalship — Conspiracy  Against  Him — The  Crow  Medicine  Man— The 
Summons — Prepares  for  Death— Runs  Amuck — Dies  Like  a Warrior — Old 
Jo  Jewett’s  Story — Williams’  Anecdote — Kills  Three  Warriors — His  Escape 
— A Lonely  Life — The  French  Trapper — An  Eastern  Fable — The  Cochetopa 
Pass — Leroux’s  Account  of  Fremont’s  Blunder — The  Old  Ute  Indian  Who 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


XXIII 


Page. 

Knew  Williams — His  Description  of  “Old  Bill” — A Running  Fight — A Six 
Day’s  Retreat — No  Surrender— The  Death  Wound — A Sad  Fate — The  Faith- 
ful Steed— The  Double  Burial 448 

CHAPTER  XV. 

JIM  BRIDGER. 

Born  in  Illinois — A Poor  Family— Hard  Knocks — Miserable  Death  of  his  Brother 
in  St.  Louis — Seeks  the  Wilderness — A Brave  Borderer — Adventure  with 
the  Blackfeet — A Captive — Released — A Love  Affair — His  Blackfoot  Bride 
— With  Milton  Sublette — Wounded  by  an  Arrow — Returns  to  St.  Louis  for 
Surgical  Aid — Jim  Beckwith — A Lurid  Liar — Some  of  his  Anecdotes — A 
Laughable  Combat — Dog  Eat  Dog — The  Flight  for  Camp — Running  Around 
a Mountain — Varicose  Veins — A Hundred  Scalps — Bridger’s  Battle  on  the 
Plains— In  Search  of  Succor— The  Night  Combat — The  Trapper’s  Camp — 
The  Rescue— Routed  Redskins — Builds  Fort  Bridger — A Noted  Stopping 
Place — Beauvais  and  Monteau — A Modest  Hero — Death  of  Bridger 459 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

BILL  BENT  AND  OTHERS. 

Charles  Bent,  Governor  of  New  Mexico — His  Murder — Fate  of  Waldo,  Lee  and 
Others — A Forty  Days’  Battle  with  Comanches — Bill  Bent  to  the  Rescue— 
The  Noble  Ewing  Young— Coates  and  Waldo— Young’s  Second  Battle — Kit 
Carson’s  Maiden  Effort — Desperate  Adventure  of  Bill  Bent  and  Two  Others 
— Beat  off  a Hundred  and  Fifty  Indians — Leave  Arizona — Boggs’  Danger — 
His  Rescue — Death  of  Pratte  and  Papin — The  Ambush — Hard  Fighting — 
Escape  and  Sufferings  of  the  Traders — Terrible  Exhaustion — Murder  of 
Monroe  and  McNeice — Revenge  of  their  Comrades — Hostilities  Begun — Le 
Grand’s  Party — Attack  on  Captain  Means — Retreat — Horrible  Sufferings — 
Attacked  by  Coyotes — Saved  from  Starvation — The  Timely  Succor — Legiti- 
mate Prey 468 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

bent’s  adventures  IN  NEW  MEXICO. 

Daring  Spirits — An  Extended  Field — The  Military  Escort — The  National  Boun- 
dary— Attacked  by  Savages — Noble  Conduct  of  Major  Riley — Dispirited 
Indians — They  Raise  the  Siege — Charles  Bent’s  Rescue  of  a Comrade — The 
Gallant  Nine — Death  of  Lamb — General  Viscarro — Indian  Treachery — 
Rescued  by  the  Traders — Noble  Act  of  a Pueblo  Indian — Riley  on  the 
Arkansas — A Cowardly  Captain — The  Two  Escorts  Meet — Military  Courte- 
sies— Bent’s  Fort — Its  Hunter — General  Kearney — Colonels  Snively  and 
Warfield— Bent’s  Fort  Besieged — Deserters — Bill  Bent  in  Sight — Ilis  Fury 
— His  Arapaho  Friend,  Yellow  Bear — The  Wagon  Train — The  Gathering 
Storm— Flight  of  the  Indians — The  Savage  Videttes— Their  Picket  System 
— Bent  Moves  to  Missouri — Restraints  of  Civilization— His  Daughter  Mar- 
ries— His  Sons — Cheyenne  Leaders — Mixed  Breeds 476 


XXIV 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


Page. 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

ADVENTURES  OF  J.  S.  SMITH,  THE  TRAPPER. 

A Celebrated  Trapper — His  Description — Wonderful  Adventures — The  First 
American  to  Reach  California  Overland — Site  of  His  Camp — Returns  to 
Green  River — Retakes  a Stolen  Horse — Blackbird,  the  Omaha  Chief — A Red 
Despot — A Great  Medicine  Man — Unlucky  Rivals — His  Methods  of  Trade — 

A Season  of  Remorse — General  Joy — His  Rival,  Little  Bow — Death  of 
Blackbird — Curious  Burial — The  Ceremonies — Human  Sacrifices  to  the 
Great  Star  (Venus) — Smith’s  Testimony — Second  Trip  to  California — Con- 
tinual Battling — Besieged  in  Camp — A Desperate  Charge — The  Survivors — 
Enter  California — Arrested  by  the  Spaniards — Released — Frightened  Jesu- 
its— On  to  the  North — Indian  Attacks — The  Massacre — Escape  of  Smith — 
Returns  to  St.  Louis — Sells  Out  of  the  Fur  Company — Gold  Discovery — 
Starts  for  Santa  Fe — Ominous  Warnings — Waylaid  by  the  Savages — His 
Death  on  the  Cimmaron — A Remarkable  Man — Account  of  Comrades — A 
Noble  Pioneer 485 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  SUBLETTES. 

Character  of  these  Men — Early  Death  of  John — A Doomed  Family— Grand- 
Sons  of  Colonel  Whitley — The  Slayer  of  Tecumseh — A Disputed  Honor — Wil- 
liam Sublette’s  Start  in  Life — His  Many  Battles — Richard  Dowling,  his 
Friend — Genial  Character  of  Sublette — A Partner  of  Robert  Campbell — 
Campbell  a Trapper — Connection  with  the  Mountain  Men — Dausman  and 
Rolette  — Half  Brothers  Contrasted — Mountain  Pioneers — A Source  of 
Wealth — Sublette’s  Narrow  Escape  from  Death — At  the  Great  Salt  Lake — 
Sublette  and  Boudinot — Origin  of  the  Cheyennes — A Mj^sterious  Race — 
Two  Accounts — A Crafty  Tribe — Too  Ambitious — Their  Downfall — Priest- 
craft— Jo  Jewett  and  E-Tay  No-Pah — The  Dog  Soldiers— A Dangerous 
Buffalo  Hunt — The  Surprise — The  Indian  Buffalo  Hunt — An  Unpleasant 
Situation — The  Coming  of  Night  and  Safety — Provisions — Retreat  to  the 
Mountains — A Nocturnal  Life — Leave  the  Hills — Other  Skirmishes — Bou- 
dinot Wounded — Joined  by  Milton  Sublette 496 

CHAPTER  XX. 

JACKSON,  SUBLETTE  AND  SMITH. 

The  New  Fur  Company — Energy  of  its  Members — Extended  Field  of  Opera- 
tions— Profits  of  the  Indian  Trade— The  First  Wagon  to  Cross  the  Rockies 
— Prairie  Schooners — The  White  Buffalo — An  Old  Friend  in  a New  Guise — 

An  Albino  Brute — Government  Trains — Change  of  Motors — Manifest  Des- 
tiny— William  Sublette’s  Diary — A Life  of  Danger — Thieving  Utes — The 
Chase— At  Bay — Sublette’s  Fight  with  Two  Indians— Kills  Both — Sublette 
Covers  His  Tracks — His  Work  Attributed  to  the  Sioux— On  the  War-Path 
— Sublette  Leaves — Milton  Sublette — A Brave  Man — Crow  Horse-Thieves — 
Three  of  them  Killed— Begin  Hostilities— Fight  with  the  Blackfeet— Sub- 


TABLE  OE  CONTENTS. 


XXV 


Page. 

lette’s  Ankle  Broken — Amputates  His  Own  Leg — The  Operation — An 
Impromptu  Surgeon — Other  Adventures — William  Dies  in  Philadelphia — 
Death  of  Milton  at  St.  Louis — Sullivan  Sublette — Goes  to  Santa  Fe — A 
Hovel  Vocation — The  Scalp  Bounty — A Reckless  Hero — Seven  Against 
One  Hundred  and  Fifty — Sullivan  Sublette  and  Arthur  Black — Their  Fight 
with  Blackfeet — Their  Flight — Black’s  Terrible  Wound — Rescued  by  Sub- 
lette— Dies  in  St.  Louis — Death  of  Sullivan  Sublette 503 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

ASHLEY,  HENRY  AND  OTHERS. 

Political  Honors — Jack  Morrow — Sam  Machette — Will  Kirby — Bill  Gaw — Leo 
Pallardy — The  Houstons — Raymond — Hunter — Cavender — Hank  Clifford — 
Morrow’s  Career — Hot  Above  Suspicion — The  Cheyenne  War — Hornby 
Barbarity — Old  Bob  Carson — The  Captured  Team — A Fate  Worse  thar 
Death — Indian  Stoicism — Poker  Playing  Committees — Jackson — Ashley^- 
Henry — Bissonette — Godey — Their  Deaths — Fitzpatick — Anecdotes — James 
Little — The  Dinner — An  Irate  Irishman — Fitzpatrick’s  Squaw — His  Death 
— Leroux — Lisa’s  Wife — Fontenelle — Old  Jo  Jewett — Ohio  Patti — Mysteri- 
ous Death — William  Waldo — His  Death — The  Last  Link 511 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  MORMONS. 

Their  Beastly  Sensuality — Undeniable  Industry — Their  Religion — Bare-Faced 
Frauds — Ignorant  Converts — Joe  Smith — A Thieving  Well-Digger — “The 
Manuscript  Found” — Spaulding’s  Hovel — Stolen  by  Smith — Uses  it  as  His 
Bible — Examples — Thieves  and  Thugs — Horrible  Rites — Lust  and  Murder 
- — How  the  Church  was  Formed — Revelations — John  the  Baptist — Smith's 
Bank — The  Permanent  Zion — Wax  Rich  and  numerous — Enraged  Mis- 
sourians— Drive  Out  the  Mormons — Hauvoo,  Illinois — Their  Power — Crimes 
— The  Illinoisans  Rise  Against  Them — Death  of  Joseph  and  Hyrum  Smith 
— Flight  to  Hebraska — Brigham  Young — The  Hew  Leader — A Hew  Zion — 
The  Danites — First  Organized — Mormon  System  of  Murder — Their  Tools — 
Fillmore’s  Folly — John  D.  Lee’s  Accomplices  in  Murder — A Terrible 
Deed 520 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  MOUNTAIN  MEADOW  MASSACRE. 

A Doomed  Band — In  Search  of  Succor — Mormons  Unmasked — A Desperate 
Defense — Repeated  Charges — Swarming  Savages — Two  Heroes — Tribute 
from  the  Infamous  Lee— Ammunition  Runs  Low — The  Flag  of  Truce — The 
Parley — Promises — The  Mormon  Council — A Mormon  Bishop — Plan  of  the 
Massacre — The  Signal — “Do  Your  Duty” — Attack  on  Unarmed  Men, 
Women  and  Children — Sick  and  Wounded  Butchered— Incidents  of  This 
Horror — Hames  of  the  Participants — Escape  of  Three  Men — Pursued  and 
Killed — The  Captive  Girls — Their  Butchery — Searching  the  Dead — Mutual 
Recriminations — Accursed  Ground — Tardy  Justice — A Single  Participant 
Punished — A Murderer  In  Congress — Character  of  Lee — Young’s  Infamy — 

A Selfish  Beast — His  Course — His  Gluttony — A Fatal  Feast— Death  of 
a Dos: * uj 


529 


XXVI 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


Page. 

CHAPTER  XXI Y. 

BUFFALO  BILL. 

His  Birth  and  Childhood — His  Character — Classed  with  Wild  Bill— Character 
of  the  Latter — A Coward  and  a Murderer — His  Quarrel  With  Bill  Thomp- 
son— Biographical  Lies — A Plucked  Gambler — Adventure  at  Junction  City 
— Whipped  by  a Carpenter — His  Death — Cody  Leaves  Iowa — His  Life  in 
Missouri — Moves  to  Kansas — With  Russel,  the  Freighter — Acts  as  Herder 
— On  the  Plains — Kills  an  Indian — Goes  to  Utah — Train  Captured  by 
Indians — Winters  at  Fort  Bridger— Sufferings — Returns  to  the  States — Sur- 
rounded by  Savages — The  Three  Heroes — Rescued — Tries  Trapping — A 
Broken  Leg — Imminent  Dangers — Saved — Rides  Pony  Express — The  Civil 
War — Chandler’s  Horse  Thieves — The  Red  Legs — Death  of  His  Mother — 
Takes  to  Drink — Volunteers — Services — Marries — Keeps  Hotel — Becomes  a 
Scout 537 


CHAPTER  XX Y. 

ADVENTURES  OF  BUFFALO  BILL. 

With  the  Tenth  Cavalry — On  a Scout— Colored  Troops — Charge  of  the  Indians 
— Artillery  Captured — Retaken — Cody’s  Coolness — The  City  of  Rome — A 
Real  Estate  Speculation — Too  Greedy — The  Rival  Town — Hlium  Fuit — 
With  Captain  Graham — A Surprise  Spoiled — Kills  Four  Thousand  Buffalos 
Buffalo  Hunting — Travelers’  Tales — Treed  on  the  Plains — Fukes — Chased 
by  Indians — A Close  Call — Put  to  Flight — A Desperate  Adventure — Three 
Indians  Killed — The  ' Buffalo  Killing  Match — Cody  Triumphant — The 
Tables  Turned — Captured  by  Santanta — An  Old  Miscreant — Outwits  the 
Savages — Escapes — Santanta  in  Prison — An  Anxious  Question — Suicide — A 
Pompous  Colonel — Game  Transporting  Itself — The  Angry  Officer — Village 
Surprised — Stubborn  Fight — Cody  Kills  Tall  Bull — His  Race  Horse — Guide 
for  Grand  Duke  Alexis — Buntline’s  Drama — A Lucky  Hit — Guide  for  Carr 
— Kills  Yellow  Hand — Mimic  Combats — The  Real  and  the  Ideal — Prairie 
Fires — Well-Deserved  Success 544 


PART  III. 


CHAPTER  I. 

GENERAL  HISTORY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

The  Spirit  of  Its  Conquest — Commercial  Explorations — Extending  Our  Boun- 
daries— Annexation  of  Texas — The  Dangers  of  Absorption — Compact  Ver- 
sus Extended  Population — Unbounded  Ambition — Disease  and  Remedy — 
Chinese  Immigration — European  Paupers — The  School  of  Penury — Squan- 
dering the  Public  Domain — Overpowering  Monopolies — The  Genius  of 
American  Liberty — Unbounded  License — Spain — Her  Former  Grandeur — 
Columbus — Vasco  Nunez  De  Balboa — Discovery  of  the  Pacific — The  Jesuits 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


XXVII 


Page. 

— A Ripe  Plum — Five  Waiters — Prophecy  of  De  Mofras — A Fatal  Facility 
— Annexation — American  Expeditions — A Type  of  the  Times — The  Adven- 
turer  555 


CHAPTER  II. 

JOHN  C.  FREMONT. 

At  the  Head  of  Another  California  Expedition — Stirring  Times — The  Oregon 
Trail — American  Immigrants— Appropriated  Experience — At  Monterey — A 
Description  of  Fremont — His  Birth — Marriage — Longing  for  Notoriety — 
Want  of  Dignity — Unbounded  Egotism — His  Collision  with  General  Kear- 
ney—Castro's  Duplicity — His  Threats — Fremont’s  Answer — The  Americans 
Fortify — A Mexican  Attack — A War  of  Words — A Battle  Without  a Corpse 
Windy  Castro — Oregon — Lake  Klamath — Surprised  by  Indians — Returns  to 
California — Lieutenant  Gillispie  — Mersite’s  Capture — Vallejo  Taken — 
Ides’  Proclamation — The  Bear  Flag — Fremont  Appointed  Governor — A 
Long  Chase — Commodore  Sloat — Admiral  Seymour — A Sailing  Match — 
Sloat  Wins — Larkin's  Information — Sloat’s  Proclamation — A Disappointed 
Commander— A Potent  Adze— The  Golden  Harvest— A True  Prophet 560 

CHAPTER  ni. 

A RAPID  CONQUEST. 

Stockton  In  Command — General  Kearney — Fremont  Snubbed — Change  of  Offi- 
cers— Stockton  and  Fremont — Castro  and  Company — Stockton’s  Ability — 
Castro  Weakens — Insubordination — A Pompous  Lieutenant — Trims  His 
Sails — Kearney  as  Governor — The  Setting  Sun — A Short  Reign — Fremont 
in  Disgrace — Court-Martialed— Runs  for  President — Defeated — Fremont’s 
Course  Considered — Deserving  of  Censure — Leniently  Treated — Resigns — ■ 
Golden  Opportunities — What  Might  Have  Been — A Disputed  Question — A 
Stubborn  Fact — The  Forgotten  Man — Once  More  to  the  Front — A Melan- 
choly Failure — Mexican  Revolutions — Spanish  Jesuits — Isaac  Graham,  the 
California  Pioneer— His  Adventure — Alvarado — How  He  Rewards  Graham 
— Long  Imprisonment— Micheltorena — Commodore  Jones — Castro  — Ides’ 
Republic — Rapid  Changes — Population  in  1848 — San  Francisco  in  1842 — 
Foreigners — The  First  Newspaper — The  First  Public  School — Pioneer  Edi- 
tors— The  First  Protestant  Church. 566 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  GOLD  DELIRIUM. 

The  Discovery  of  Gold — Marshall's  Cut — Sutter’s  Mill— The  Land  of  Promise 
— Isaac  Humphreys — “Pay  Dirt” — Aladin’s  Lamp — Bacchanalian  Orgies — 

A Common  Center — A Golden  Key — Swarming  Chinamen — The  Man  from 
Pike — “Joe  Bowers” — Leech-Like  Parasites — The  Population  Doubled — 

By  Sea  and  Shore — The  March  to  the  Mines — Deserted  Ships — An  Enchant- 
ed Country — Stampedes — Reckless  Dissipations — Gambling  and  Drinking 
Bouts — “Soiled  Doves” — Hard  Luck — “God’s  Country” — Shipwreck — 
Deaths  at  Sea — Cut  Off  by  Savages — Death  by  Famine — The  Trail  of  Skele- 
tons— Fabulous  Prices — A Speculation  in  Carpeting — A Sudden  Fortune...  574 


XXVIH 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


p i 

CHAPTER  V. 

CALIFORNIA  CHARACTERS  AND  WONDERS. 

Prevalence  of  Crime — Judge  Lynch — Penalty  for  Theft — American  Despera- 
does— Sidney  Ducks — Vox  Populi — Concert  Saloons— Bravos — “Boon 
Helm’s  Hounds” — Disastrous  Fires — Speculation — The  Delirium  Abates — 
Strange  Employments — A Confusion  of  Trades— Educated  Waiters — Accom- 
plished Barbers — Adaptability — Towns  and  Villages — Rapid  Growth  of 
Sacramento — Enormous  Rents  in  San  Francisco — A Reaction — A Rational 
Basis — A Prophetic  Novel — Islas  Carolinas — Size  of  California — Produc- 
tions— Riches — Future — Big  Trees — The  Redwood  Groves — Lakes  and 
Rivers— Bays  and  Mands— Falls  of  Yosemite — Mineral  Springs — Incipient 
Volcanoes — Geysers — The  Sunken  Lake — The  Tar  Springs — Boiling  Mud 
Springs 580 

CHAPTER  VI. 

A TALE  OF  TERRORS. 

“The  Earthquake’s  Shock” — A Panic  Fear — A Noted  Quake — Channels  Changed 
— Islands  Engulfed — Lakes  Formed — Others  Emptied — New  Madrid — Dr. 
Hildreth’s  Account — Fright  of  Dumb  Animals — Horrible  Noises — Forests 
Disappear — Gigantic  Foam  wreaths — Volcanic  Jets — Funereal  Vapors — 
Boats  Overwhelmed — Account  of  Bradbury,  the  English  Scientist — Shock 
After  Shock — Forms  a Lake  Sixty  Miles  Long — The  Pioneer  Steamboat  Trip 
— Destruction  in  Java — An  Island  of  Ice — Terrible  Loss  of  Life  in  Italy — 
Stromboli  — Pompeii  and  Herculaneum  — Jorulla  — Cotopaxi  — Immense 
Power — Quito  Destroyed — A Chain  of  Volcanoes — Floridian  Meadows — 
Vesuvius — The  Lost  Atlantis — Forty  Villages  Swallowed  Up — Lisbon’s 
Doom— Sixty  Thousand  People  Perish — A Navy  Entombed — Massachusetts 
and  Martinique — Port  Royal  Sinks — Antioch’s  Third  Shock — Two  Hundred 
and  Fitty  Thousand  Lives  Lost — California’s  List — San  Francisco  Shaken — 
The  Inyo  Shock — Rivers  Run  Backward — Terrible  Noises — Appalling 
Sights — Mount  Hood’s  Fires  Lighted 5S5 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  CHINESE  QUESTION. 

A Social  and  Political  Problem — The  Pot-House  Politician — Satan  in  Paradise 
— Strange  Fault-Finding — A Modest  Immigrant — Chinese  Virtues — His 
Adaptability — The  Asiatic  Yankee — A Low  Death  Rate — Cheap  Labor — A 
Patient  Toiler — The  Autocratic  Servant  Girl — The  Unpardonable  Sin — 
Household  Tyrant — Pagans— Buddha  and  Con-Fut-See — A Pure  Morality 
— A Noble  Hebrew — His  Teachings — A Young  Prince — His  Holy  Life — A 
Creed  of  Castes — Overthrown  by  Buddha — The  Children  of  God — To  Live 
Well — The  First  Golden  Rule — A Chinese  Philosopher — Amusements — 
New  Year — Theaters — Peculiar  Customs — No  Politics — Chinese  Widow's — 
Polygamy — Murder  of  Female  Children — Diet — An  Old  Civilization — 
Unchangeable — Long  Enjoyed  Luxuries — Comparison  With  Other  Ra^« — 
Leprosy — Fears  of  its  Spread — Prostitution — Necessary  Evils — The  Strax^ 
Woman — Experience  of  Socrates  — Solomon’s  Wisdom  — Aspasia  — TIk 
Omnipresent  Courtesan. ...  595 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


XXIX 


CHAPTER  Vm. 

EARLY  TYPES  OF  CALIFORNIA  SOCIETY. 

The  Effect  of  Heredity — The  Roundhead — Hardy  and  Brave — Somewhat  Fa- 
natical— Ingenious,  Practical,  Careful — The  Slave  of  Duty — A Man  of  Iron 
— The  Cavalier  — Adventurous  — Graceful — Liberal — Hot-Blooded  — Toe 
Reckless — Romantic — A Worshipper  of  Honor — Polished  Steel — The  West- 
ern Man — Love  of  Excitement — A Gladiator — Courageous — A Hardy  Hero 
— The  Open  Combat — Unbounded  Faith — Unyielding  Bravery — The  Cali- 
fornian of  To-day — “The  Man  of  ’49” — A Cosmopolite — The  Swarming 
Nations — Continual  Excitement — Lavish  Prodigality — Wealthy  Citizens — 
Condition  of  California — The  History  of  Gold — North  Carolina — A Handy 
Pig-Pelter — Meadow  Creek — Gold  in  the  South — Australia — James  Bu- 
chanan— “Over  the  Dump” — Mineral  Production — Big  Nuggets — Virgin 
Silver — Prospectors — Gamblers — Greaser  Gambling — Wall  Street  Opera- 
tors— Bunco  Men  — The  California  “Sport” — A Game  Man — Bucking 
Against  the  Inevitable 599 

CHAPTER  IX. 

CALIFORNIA  CRIMINALS  AND  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEES. 

“The  Daughter  of  the  Horse  Leech” — Messalina,  Empress  of  Rome — “The 
Serpent  of  Old  Nile” — “The  Fairest  Helen” — A Firmly  Fixed  Fact — Her 
Mission — The  Descent  of  Avernus — The  Downward  Path — The  Frontier 
Dance-House — A Hideous  Wreck — A Companion  Picture — The  Orchestra — 

A Fiendish  Revel — The  Dance  of  Death — The  Desperado — His  Aliases — 
General  Character — Playing  a Sucker — A Bad  Man — A Willing  Creditor — 
The  Imitation  and  the  Real  Article — Bids  for  Murder — The  Vigilantes — 
“Short  Shrift” — The  Legend— A Good  Thing  Overdone — A Zealot — Rabid 
Writing — Sowing  the  Wind — Killed  by  Casey — An  Unlawful  Mob — The 
Mayor’s  Speech — Cora  and  Casey  Murdered — Sherman  Commissioned — 
Resigns — Appeal  to  the  President — The  Governor  Defied — State  Arms 
Stolen — The  Attack  on  Terry — His  Bravery — Held  a Prisoner — Committee 
Parades  and  Disbands — Treatment  of  Terry 606 

CHAPTER  X. 

CALIFORNIA  DUELS. 

A Favorite  Method  of  Settling  Quarrels — Public  Sentiment — Origin  of  the 
Duel — Knightly  Duty — Penalty  of  Cowardice — Who  have  Participated  in 
such  Combats — A Singular  Duel — The  Brute  Champion — Sir  Walter  Scott 
— Boon  Companions— The  Brutal  Murder — The  Faithful  Dog — The  Accusa- 
tion— Preparations  for  the  Combat — Justice  Vindicated — The  False  Com- 
rade Sentenced — The  First  California  Duel— Want  of  Interest — Walker  and 
Graham — Cause  of  this  Affair — Graham’s  Declaration — The  Halt — Particu- 
lars of  the  Fight — Walker  Wounded — Disadvantage  of  a Short  Vest — Fate 
of  Graham — With  Walker  in  Nicaragua 615 


XXX 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS . 


T>  i pi? 

CHAPTER  XI. 

JUDGE  TERRY,  BRODERICK,  AND  OTHERS. 

Woodlief  and  Kewen — A Fight  with  Rifles — Contra  Costa — The  Betting — 
Twenty  Thousand  Spectators — Rumors  on  the  Field — An  Interference — 
Woodlief’s  Wife — The  Fight  Proceeds — Quick  Shots — Game  Men — Death 
of  Woodlief — Kewen  not  Touched — Killed  in  Nicaragua — Numerous  other 
Duels — Terry  and  Broderick — Cause  of  the  Dhel — Maudlin  Sympathy — 
Misrepresentations — Apology  Tendered — A Shoulder-Hitter — His  Fear  of 
Death — Too  Late  to  Apologize— Offers  of  Settlement — False  Friends — The 
Fight — Broderick  Falls— Dr.  Gwin — In  Congress — A Wonderful  Career — 
Goes  to  California — Political  Prediction — A Prophecy  Verified — Elected 
United  States  Senator — On  Fortune’s  Flood — Re-Elected — Course  During 
the  Civil  War — Duke  of  Sonora — Last  Days  of  Gwin G21 

CHAPTER  XII. 

COLONEL  JOHN  COFFEE  HAYS. 

The  Texan  Ranger — Birth  and  Disposition — Services  in  Texas — His  Popularity 
— In  Mexico — At  Monterey — Compliment  to  Hays — Anecdote  of  the  Texas 
Troops  in  Mexico — Their  Bravery — Their  Billet  in  the  City — The  Lepero 
Quarter — Assassination  — A Boy  Hero — The  Mexican  Desperado — His 
Assault — Death — The  Leperos  Subdued— Hays  goes  to  California — “The 
People’s  Party” — Elected  Sheriff — A Valuable  Man — Incident  at  the  Polls 
— Splendid  Horsemanship — Hays’  Character — Anecdote — The  N egro  Des- 
peradoes— Their  Threats — Hays  Sent  For — Does  His  Duty — Cowed  Bravos 
— Defies  the  Vigilantes — Unparalleled  Bravery — An  Indian  War — Whites 
Defeated — Hays  to  the  Rescue — Founds  Oakland — A Texan  Incident — Sur- 
rounded by  Indians — Defeats  Them — The  Cowardly  Volunteer — Hays’ 
Advice — Hays  in  Battle — Storming  of  the  Bishop’s  Palace — Death  of  Hays 
— Reminiscences 627 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

KIT  CARSON. 

Born  in  Kentucky — Removes  to  Missouri — Apprenticed  to  a Saddler — Crosses 
the  Plains— Acts  as  Surgeon — Cool  Nerve — Returns  Home — In  New  Mexico 
— Goes  to  Chihuahua  as  Interpreter— Serves  as  Teamster — Joins  Ewing 
Young's  Party  of  Trappers — Indian  Fight — Enters  California — Trapping — 
Aids  the  Padres — Indian  Slaves — Carson  Defeats  Indians— Mountain  Horse- 
Thieves — Carson  Attacks  and  Routs  Them — Stock  Recovered — The  Return 
to  New  Mexico — Drinking  and  Quarreling — In  Camp  on  the  Gila — In  Dan- 
ger— Carson’s  Conduct — Disperses  Robbers — Another  Indian  Fight — Cache 
Their  Furs — Go  to  Santa  Fe — Mexican  Officials  Outwitted — Carson’s  Spree 
— Swears  Off — With  Fitzpatrick — Robbed  by  the  Crows — Indians  Fortify 
— Attacked  by  Trappers — Horses  Retaken — Bravery  of  a Friendly  Indian — 
Thievish  Trappers — Pursued — Disappear — Carson  a “Free  Trapper” — Great 
Success — With  Captain  Lee — On  Green  River — Horses  Stolen — Pursuit  of 
Thief — Overtaken  and  Killed  by  Carson — The  Grizzly  Bear— Bridger’s 
Camp — In  the  Blackfoot  Country — Desperate  Battle — Carson  Dangerously 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


XXXI 


Page. 

Wounded — The  Reverend  Samuel  Parker — The  French  Bully — His  Chal- 
lenge— Accepted  by  Carson — The  Duel — Carson  Triumphant — On  the 
Yellowstone — The  Pacific  Slope — A Strong  Party — Fontenelle — A Heavy 
Battle — Trappers  Retreat — Reinforced — Flight  of  Indians — The  Yavajos..635 

CHAPTER  XI Y. 

STIRRING  ADVENTURES  OF  KIT  CARSON. 

Description  of  the  Yavajos — Brown’s  Hole— Post  Hunter — Goes  to  the  Yellow- 
stone— A Desperate  Battle — Carson  Builds  Fortifications — ADariug  Charge 
— Repulsed — A Field  of  Slaughter — Continual  Annoyance — Trappers  go  to 
Salmon  River — Try  the  Blackfeet  Again — Attacked — Fight  from  a Thicket 
— Indians  Repulsed — Retreat  of  the  Trappers — Visit  the  Flatheads — Hunts 
for  Bent’s  Fort — Takes  an  Indian  Wife — Meets  Fremont — Acts  as  Guide — 
Carson  Marries  in  Yew  Mexico — Fremont’s  Second  Expedition — Voyage 
on  Salt  Lake — Short  Rations — Arrival  of  Fitzpatrick — Journey  to  the 
Pacific — Terrible  Sufferings — Joins  Fremont’s  Third  Expedition — In  Ore- 
gon— Lajeunesse  Killed — Carson’s  Revenge — Captures  Spies — Dispatched 
to  Washington — Stops  at  Taos — Appointed  Lieutenant — The  Sleepy  Senti- 
nel Cured — Fight  on  Virgin  River — Winters  at  Tejon  Pass — Old  Bill  Wil- 
liams— Laroux — Desperate  Adventures — Carson  Rescues  Traders  — Sur- 
rounded by  Cheyennes — A Man  of  Resources — Visits  His  Daughter — Last 
Trapping  Expedition — Drives  Sheep  to  California — A Brigadier  General- 
Death  of  Carson 645 

CHAPTER  XY. 

UNPARALLELED  HORROR— THE  CAMP  OF  DEATH. 

The  Donner  Party — A Good  Beginning — The  Fiendish  Hastings — A Yew  Route 
— Forty  Miles  in  Thirty  Days — The  First  Death — Ominous  Storms — Enter 
the  Desert — Hostile  Indians — Loose  Thirty-Six  Cattle — Wagons  Break 
Down — The  Snow  Storm — Indians  Steal  Cattle — Swarms  of  Savages — Their 
Malice — Twenty  Cattle  Killed  by  Indians — Out  of  Food — Frowning  For- 
tune— A Scene  of  Desolation — The  Beastly  Brin — Precious  Water — Cattle 
Killed  by  Indians — A Yoble  Fellow — The  Indian  Vacqueros — Attempt  to 
Cross  Mountains — The  Heroic  Eddy — A Terrible  Snow  Storm — Starvation 
— Eddy  Starts  for  Relief — Mrs.  Eddy’s  Yote — Yoble  Self-Sacrifice 654 

CHAPTER  XYI. 

TERRIBLE  SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  DONNER  PARTY. 

Stanton  Dies  of  Starvation — Cannibalism  Proposed— Voted  Down— Three 
Others  Die — A Horrible  Feast — Eddy  Abstains  from  Cannibalism — Yoble 
Women — Deer  Killed — Fosdick  Dies  — “The  Camp  of  Death” — Reach 
Indian  Village — Relief  Parties — Glover  and  Eddy  Reach  Immigrants — 
Snowed  Under — The  Dead  and  Dying — Mrs.  Reed  and  the  Brins — Eddy’s 
Wife  and  Children  Dead — Awful  State  of  Affairs — Appalling  Horrors — Mrs. 
Donner’s  Devotion — A Pathetic  Sight — The  Appeal  to  Masonry — Another 
Party  to  the  Rescue — The  Beastly  Kiesburg — Ghoulish  Feasts— “Starved 
Camp” — Hideous  Sights — Satisfied  Cannibals — Clark,  the  Infamous  Shoe- 
maker-Eddy’? Steadfast  Yobility — Concealed  Horrors 660 


XXXII 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


Page. 

CHAPTEE  XVII. 

GENERAL  WM.  S.  WALKER— THE  PIONEER  FILIBUSTER. 

The  Golden  Tocsin— The  “Grey-Eyed  Man  of  Destiny” — Dreams  of  Empire — 
Walker’s  Birth  and  Education — In  California — Description  of  Walker — His 
Courage — His  Magnetism— Heroic  Warfare — The  Monopolist,  Vanderbilt— 
Odds  Against  the  Filibuster — Walker’s  Losses — Resources  of  Nicaragua — 
San  Juan  del  Norte — Productions  of  Central  America — In  Ruins — Rich 
Mines — Climate — Instability  of  Affairs — Beautiful  Scenery — Dense  Forests 
— Beautiful  Flowers — Lakes — The  Natives — Natural  Gamblers — Fandangoes 
— Games  of  Chance — Cock  Fighting— Sunday  Pastimes 667 

CHAPTEE  XVIII. 

DESCRIPTION  OF  NICARAGUA  AND  ITS  AFFAIRS. 

Principal  Cities — Style  of  Buildings — The  Plaza — Revolutions — Walker  Appears 
on  the  Scene — Legitimists  and  Democrats — The  March  on  Realejo — Cha- 
morro Defeated — Granada  Attacked— A Year’s  Siege — Rivas  Taken — Con- 
fiscation— American  Recruits — Desperate  Men — Their  Dexterity  with  Arms 
— Castillon  Declared  President — Legitimist  Successes— Byron  Cole — Tales 
of  Walker — His  Filibustering  in  Sonora— Starved  Heroes — A Desperate 
Fight — Tried  in  San  Francisco — Solicited  to  Join  Castillon — Walker’s  First 
Battle — Natives  Desert — The  Retreat — Two  Desperadoes — Treatment  by 
Walker — A Filibuster  Victory 674 

CHAPTEE  XIX. 

SUCCESS  OF  THE  FILIBUSTERS. 

Recruits  for  Walker — Captures  Granada — The  Ravages  of  the  Cholera — Offered 
the  Presidency — Refuses — Commander-in-Cliief — A Consolidated  Govern- 
ment— A Division  of  Offices — Corral’s  Treachery — President  Rivas — The 
First  Newspaper — A Bonus  to  Immigrants — Costa  Rica — British  Intrigues 
— Vanderbilt,  the  Cormorant — Costa  Rican  Brutality — Movement  on  Rivas 
— Desperate  Fighting — Recognized  by  the  United  States — Steamers  Seized 
— Plot  Against  Walker — A New  Election — Walker  President — Salazar  Flies 
to  San  Salvador — Captured  on  the  Bay  of  Fonseca — Delivered  to  Walker- 
Tried  at  Granada — Found  Guilty — Executed 6S3 

CHAPTEE  XX. 

WALKER  BATTLES  AGAINST  DESPERATE  ODDS. 

A Strong  Combination — Leon  Occupied — The  Brave  McDonald — An  Impreg- 
nable Fortress — Colonel  Cole — A Hopeless  Combat — Death  of  Cole — Allies 
Attacked — Furious  Charge — Unwelcome  News — Filibusters  Withdraw — At 
Granada — Swarming  Allies — Driven  by  Walker — Number  of  the  Allies — A 
Brutal  Soldiery — Murder  of  Non-Combatants — Other  Battles — A Filibuster 
Failure — Overwhelming  Numbers — The  Torch — Leonese  Outrages — The 
Gallant  Henningsen — A Forlorn  Hope — A Band  of  Heroes — Survivors 
Butchered — Pursuit  of  Henningsen — Cut  Off — Seizes  a Church — Stern  Music 
— An  Unparalleled  Defense — The  Deadly  Bowie-Knife — The  Flag  of  Truce 
—A  Month’s  Siege — Filibuster  Sallies — Allies  Retreat — Rivas  Taken ...... .63'. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


XXXIII 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


Page. 


DEATH  OF  GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  WALKER. 

A Contemptible  Creature— Treachery — A fierce  Attack — A Filibuster  Success — 
Colonel  Lockridge — A Brave  Man — Defeated — Walker  at  Bay — The  United 
States  Interferes — Surrenders — A Fatal  Mistake — Goes  to  New  Orleans — 
Another  Expedition  — Arrested  — Buchanan  Declines  to  Prosecute — A 
Declining  Star — Again  a Prisoner — A Descent  on  Honduras — Captured 
Near  Truxillo  — Futile  Intercession — A Maiden’s  Prayers  — The  Last 
Thought — A Waiting  Sweetheart — Tried  and  Shot — A Hero’s  Death — The 
Pioneer  of  Filibusters 698 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

COUNT  RAOUSSET-BOULBON. 

A French  Filibuster — A Forgotten  Page  of  American  History — A Poor  Noble 
— A Brave  Man — Rumors — A Confession — An  Accomplished  Lady — Gas- 
cony— A Shrewd  Guess — Ups  and  Downs — Everybody’s  Friend— A Sunny 
Disposition — A Scheme — Taylor,  the  Gambler — A Friend  n Need — The 
Count  Leaves  San  Francisco — A Novel  Proposition — Accepted — Plans  of 
Action — Recruits — In  Arizona — A Wily  Commander — Mexican  Jealousy — 
Frigate  Captured — Bought  Off — Returns  to  California — Rich  and  Happy — 
Taylor’s  Friendship — Sails  for  France — Bell  of  Tennessee 706 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

COLONEL  JAMES  BOWIE. 

The  Texan  Era — Why  Placed  in  This  Department — Aaron  Burr’s  Duel — Dreams 
of  Empire — The  Bowie  Knife — The  Pirate  Lafitte — An  Indian  Fight — A 
Fierce  Struggle — Savages  Retreat — In  the  Texan  Army — At  San  Antonio — 
Cross-Purposes — Houston’s  Line  of  Defense — In  Feeble  Health — A Devo- 
ted Band — The  Fatal  6th  of  March,  1836 — The  Alamo  Surrounded — How 
Heroes  Die — Bowie’s  Noble  Defense — Mexican  Murderers — A Glorious 
Death — 71? 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

WILLIAM  BARRETT  TRAVIS— THE  HERO  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

School  Teacher  and  Lawyer — In  Texas — Escapes  Arrest — A Capture— Hous- 
ton’s Error — In  Command  at  San  Antonio— Asks  for  Reinforcements — 
Brave  and  Skillful— His  Determination — A Call  for  Aid — The  Doomed 
Alamo — A Noble  Mexican — The  Final  Charge — Heroic  Defenders — The 
Alamo  Taken — A Bloody  Massacre — Major  Evan’s  Daring — Death  of  Travis 
— The  Tragedy  Over — Inhuman  Vengeance — A Rude  but  Heroic  Monu- 
ment— Stirring  Inscriptions 725 


XXXIV 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


Page. 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

ELLIS  P.  BEAN  AND  OTHERS. 

A Young  Adventurer— Leaves  Home — Shipwrecked — Goes  to  Texas — Captured 
— Chained — In  Prison — A Universal  Genius — Shoemaker,  Hatter  and  Quar- 
ryman — His  Escape — Betrayed — Recapture— Builds  Powder  Mills — Gains 
His  Liberty — With  the  Patriot-Priest,  Morelos — Brave  and  Noble — Embas- 
sador to  the  United  States — Sails  with  Lafitte — Serves  at  the  Battle  of  New 
Orleans — Visits  Home — Indian  Agent  for  Texas — His  Marriage — Other 
Heroes 729 


CHAPTER  XXYI. 

DAVY  CROCKETT. 

A Gallant  Soul — A Youth  of  Poverty — Boyish  Hardships— Homesick — His  Edu- 
cation— Runs  Away — His  Return— His  Labor — Courtships— Marriage — A 
Soldier — Politician — Goes  to  the  Legislature — Elected  Colonel — Becomes  a 
Justice  of  the  Peace — In  Congress — His  Ready  Wit — A Yankee  Trick — 
Electioneering — Goes  West — His  Defeat — Last  Speech  to  His  Constituents 
— Starts  for  Texas — The  Thimble  Rigger — The  Bee  Hunter — In  the  Alamo 
— Castrellon,  the  Noble  Mexican— A Terrible  Drama— Death  of  Crockett.. -738 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Page. 

Daniel  Boone  in  early  manhood 45 

The  struggle  against  destiny 43 

A savage  paradise — Indian  river,  Florida 51 

Present  view  of  the  battle  field  of  the  Blue  Licks 55 

Birthplace  of  Gen.  George  Rogers  Clarke 50 

Old  Royal  street  at  Jamestown,  Virginia 58 

Indians  and  British  Renegades  making  a capture 01 

Horse -shoe  Kennedy,  the  novelist. 03 

Seat  of  the  Boones  near  Exeter,  England 08 

Daniel  Boone 71 

Mrs.  Boone — From  a painting  by  Peale,  now  in  possession  of  Col.  Boone,  of 

Colorado 73 

Findley,  the  discoverer  of  Kentucky 70 

The  old  fort  at  Boonsborough 78 

Capture  of  Jemima  Boone  and  Betsy  and  Frances  Calaway SO 

Boone's  fight  over  the  body  of  his  son  at  Blue  Licks 86 

Brutal  murders  at  Estil’s  Station 88 

Female  heroism  at  Bryant’s  Station — Bringing  water  for  the  fort  surrounded 

by  Indians 90 

Reinforcing  Bryant’s  Station 94 

Major  Hugh  McGarry . 90 

Boone  alone  in  the  wilderness  of  Kentucky ]03 

Boone  starting  to  Missouri 104 

House  in  Montgomery  County,  Missouri,  in  which  Boone  died 110 

Simon  Kenton  at  the  age  of  76 113 

Young  Kenton’s  triumph  over  his  rival 115 

Kenton  rescuing  Boone 118 

Simon  Kenton’s  Mazeppa  ride 122 

Kenton  and  the  Renegade  Girty 124 

The  Warrior’s  reply  to  Girty,  demanding  Kenton’s  death 128 

Kenton  and  Logan 131 

Simon  Kenton  and  Colonel  Fletcher 134 

Kenton's  cabin  on  Mad  river — in  which  he  died 135 

Simon  Kenton — from  a portrait  taken  just  before  his  death 137 

Mrs.  Wetzel,  mother  of  Lewis  140 

Wonderful  exploit  of  Wetzel  at  the  Age  of  Seventeen 142 

Death  of  John  Wetzel  while  running  the  chute 145 

Wetzel's  escape  from  Fort  Harmer 148 

Miss  Betsy  Bryan 152 

Scene  of  Martin  Wetzel’s  exploit 155 

General  George  Rogers  Clarke 158 

Father  Gebault 1G1 


XXXV 


XXXVI 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Page. 

One  of  Clarke’s  French  Militiamen 164 

Captain  Helm  168 

Clarke  spares  La  Croix’  son 171 

Colonel  William  Crawford  at  the  Age  of  Forty, 178 

Widow  of  Colonel  Crawford 181 

Death  tortures  of  Colonel  William  Crawford 186 

Miserable  old  age  of  Girty,  the  Renegade. 190 

Colonel  Benjamin  Logan 192 

Captain  Samuel  Brady 202 

Brady’s  Leap  for  Life 208 

Heroic  Death  of  James  Brady 215 

Turkey  Head,  the  Shawnee  Chief  killed  byHarrod 222 

Harrod’s  creek — scene  of  Harrod’s  adventure 224 

Slover’s  flight  on  the  ill-fated  Crawford  Expedition 228 

Slover’s  comrade  running  the  Gauntlet  at  Waughcotomoco 232 

Captain  Robert  Benham,  hero  of  the  Wonderful  Escape  at  the  mouth  of  the 

Licking 238 

Morgan,  at  the  age  of  seventy,  defending  his  Young  Children 241 

Adam  Poe’s  struggle  with  Big  Foot  and  the  little  Indian 245 

Ferdinand  De  Soto 248 

De  Soto's  Indian  visitors  on  the  Mississippi 250 

Burial  of  De  Soto 252 

The  Modern  Belle — Antipode  of  the  Border  Heroine 257 

Capture  of  Miss  Harbison  and  her  Companions  by  the  two  concealed  Indians. . . 260 

Betty  Zane,  the  heroine  of  Fort  Henry,  now  Wheeling 263 

Mrs.  Pursley’s  prisoner  at  bay,  at  the  mouth  of  his  own  rifle 268 

Indian  Scalp  Dance 274 

Miss  Washburn’s  shot 278 

Mrs.  Daviess  saves  her  Husband’s  life 284 

Mrs.  Porter  kills  three  Indians 280 

Mrs.  Merrill’s  terrible  combat — killing  six  Indians  and  wounding  one 28& 

Young  Darke’s  adventure  with  the  panther 29? 

Young  Bingaman  taken  prisoner. 301 

One  of  Mike  Fink’s  jokes 305 

Peg  Fink 307 

Bill  Sedley’s  flight  from  “the  swamp” 311 

Death  of  the  Gambler,  Juan  Cortinas .313 

Treed  by  W olves 319 

Peter  Cartwright 324 

Birkhammer’s  exploit  at  anight  Camp-Meeting 336 

“Old  Jimmie”  Axley 337 

“Old  Jimmie”  Axley  preaching  in  a tobacco  barn 338 

Macurdy’s  “war  sermon” 340 

Cartwright’s  revenge : “Glory  to  God ! another  sinner  down” 343 

The  Frontier  Teacher  and  his  School 346 

The  Pioneer  Sunday  school 349 

“Big  Injun  me.”  Shaved-Head — the  Pawnee  Chief , 358 

A Dug-Out 359 

The  Rejected  Suitor 363 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


XXXVII 


Page. 

A Happy  Plains  Family  at  Home 366 

A Panic  in  Camp — an  unwelcome  visitor 367 

The  Roadmaker — Erin’s  son  pours  out  his  life  blood  upon  the  thirsty  plains  — 371 

A Typical  Peace  Commission  in  Session 374 

Night  Scene  on  Lake  Bessie — ^ead  of  east  fork  of  Gunnison  River 373 

McLellan’s  Comparison  castrated 332 

In-Ke-Teh  Hos-Kah  (Long  Man) — the  Sioux  Chief 386 

McLellan  and  Crooks 389 

tipper  Falls  of  Mad  River 392 

Founding  of  Astoria 396 

A Camp  of  Crow  Indians 398 

Buffalo  Cow  and  Calf 402 

Greasers 404 

The  Country  Store 405 

The  Home  of  Thomas  Eddie  408 

The  Last  of  the  Trappers 410 

White  Bear’s  Combat  with  the  Arickara  Chief 412 

The  Snake  Chief,  Pirn — the  Friend  of  the  Trappers 414 

Murderous  Mexicans 419 

Scene  of  Colter’s  Race  for  Life 424 

The  Blackf  oot  spy  on  watch 434 

Bill  Gordon  rescuing  a Wagon  Train  from  the  Blackfeet 439 

The  Crow  village  where  Ashley’s  men  wintered 443 

Tah-Ton-Kah  Haw  (Bull  Robe,)  a young  Sioux  Chief  captured  by  Smith 446 

One  of  Murrell’s  Hostlers 449 

Little  Raven — the  Crow  Medicine  Man 451 

Killing  of  Rose,  the  Renegade 453 

An  Indian  Lamb  and  a White  Wolf — A fable  of  the  Eastern  sentimentalists 456 

Home  of  the  Bridgers  in  Illinois 460 

Bridger  and  the  Blackf  oot  Maiden 462 

Jim  Beckwith’s  description  of  an  Indian  battle 465 

Waldo  checking  the  Indians  near  Taos 470 

The  Coyote  serenade  on  the  Plains 481 

Blackbird,  Chief  of  the  Omahas 487 

Smith  escaping  from  the  Mohaves 492 

Mountain  Grouse 493 

Home  of  the  Sublettes  at  Crab  Orchards,  Kentucky : 497 

An  Indian  Buffalo  Hunt  with  bows  and  arrows 501 

The  Immigrant  Party  makes  a night  drive 505 

William  Sublette’s  Combat  with  the  two  Utes 507 

The  Indian  of  the  Novelist 514 

The  Genuine  Article 515 

Jack  Morrow 516 

Patti’s  Party  digging  for  Water 517 

The  Hill  of  Cumorah — Mormon  Hill 521 

Joe  Smith 524 

A Mormon  Indian  Trader 527 

Mormon  Militia  going  to  the  Mountain  Meadow  Massacre 530 

The  Mountain  Meadow  Massacre  by  Mormons  and  Indians 533 


XXXVIII 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Page. 

Brigham  Young,  the  Apostle  of  Lust  and  Murder 53G 

Wild  Bill — from  a photograph 538 

Buffalo  Bill — from  a photograph 539 

Treed  hy  a Buffalo 546 

The  Tables  Turned — The  way  the  Grand  Duke  Alexis  is  said  to  have  hunted 

buffalo .549 

A Prairie  Fire  on  the  stage 550 

A Prairie  Fire  on  the  plains 5. 1 

Hailing  the  Ship — The  San  Carlos  entering  the  Golden  Gate 55d 

Castro’s  Threat . 563 

Castro’s  Volunteers , . .564 

Pot  Luck  in  the  Pioneer  Days  of  California 571 

Gutierrez  Captured  by  Graham 572 

The  Tale  of  Gold 576 

Surprised  by  a California  bed-fellow 582 

“Scotty”  the  California  prospector. 604 

The  California  Vigilantes  executing  the  orders  of  Judge  Lynch 610 

“Listen  to  the  Mocking  Bird” — an  incident  of  pioneer  days  in  California 614 

Contra  Costa — scene  of  Walker’s  Duel 619 

Widow  of  Colonel  Woodlief 623 

The  Duke  of  Sonora 625 

A Sole  past  saving — The  Pioneer  Cobbler  and  his  Customer 626 

Hays  and  Houston  discussing  the  plan  of  the  San  Antonio  Campaign 630 

Home  of  Kit  Carson  in  Howard  County,  Missouri 636 

Kit  Carson 640 

Pioneer  Pleasures — winter  stage  travel  by  night 652 

William  Eddy — the  hero  of  the  Donner  Party 655 

Louis  Kiesburg — the  Cannibal 663 

The  Infamous  Clark — the  shoemaker 665 

General  William  S.  Walker 668 

Birthplace  of  William  S.  Walker  at  Nashville,  Tennessee 670 

A Spanish- American  Fandango •. 672 

Don  Francisco  Castillon 675 

Colonel  Byron  Cole 678 

Walker’s  Fleet  leaving  Realejo . 680 

Plaza  where  Corral  and  Salazar  were  executed 681 

Walker’s  Parting  from  his  Mother 6S4 

Castillo  Viejo 686 

A Costa  Rican  Cavalryman 688 

Birthplace  of  Schlessinger 689 

A Nicaraguan  Mansion 692 

San  J uan  del  Sur 694 

Night  Scene  on  the  Rio  San  Juan — in  Nicaragua. 696 

Spencer 699 

El  Paso  del  Muerte,  where  Walker  was  executed 701 

The  President’s  Daughter  begging  for  Walker’s  life 703 

Walker's  Betrothed 704 

Count  Raousset-Boulbon 707 

Boulbon  and  his  Betrothed. 710 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


XXXIX 


Page. 

Childhood  of  Count  Raousset-Boulbon 712 

Ruins  of  Lafitte’s  Fort  on  Galveston  Island 721 

Bowie’s  Fight  with  the  Caddo  and  Tehuacana  Indians 722 

Storming  of  the  Alamo 726 

Monument  erected  to  the  Heroes  of  the  Alamo 727 

Ellis  P.  Bean 730 

JeanLafltte — the  Pirate 733 

Stephen  F.  Austin 734 

Sam  Houston 735 

Houston  at  Tallapoosa 736 

David  Crockett 739 

Santa  Anna 741 


PART  I. 


Ffom  the  Allegheny  to  the  Mippippippi. 


THE  EBA  OF  COLONIZATION. 


“Draw  him  strictly,  so 
That  all  who  view  the  piece  may  know 
He  needs  no  trappings  of  fictitious  fame.yi 

DRYDEN* 


INTRODUCTORY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

HARDY  HEROES. 


THE  PIONEER  OF  CIVILIZATION THE  MOUND-BUILDER RELICS  OF  A PRIOR 

CIVILIZATION THE  HEROISM  OF  THE  PIONEER THE  MISSION  OF  THE 

INDIAN A DOOMED  RACE COOPER’S  SAVAGES THE  AMERICAN  ISH- 

MAELITE HIS  WERFARE IDEAL  INDIANS KENTUCKY THE  SIGN 

MANUAL  OF  THE  RED  MAN THE  ENCHANTMENT  OF  DISTANCE OUT- 
RAGE AND  MURDER EXTINCTION. 

That  the  position  occupied  by  those  brave  and  hardy  men,  whose 
gallant  struggles  gave  to  civilization  so  vast  an  extent  of  territory, 
and  through  whose  heroism  and  terrible  privations  was  prepared 
the  way  for  the  church,  the  school,  the  temple  of  justice  and  the 
other  institutions,  which  enlightenment  brings  in  her  train  to  ameli- 
orate all  conditions  of  society,  was  a noble  one,  no  one  doubts  or 
denies,  but  the  efforts  to  depict  the  lives,  deeds  and  aims  of  these 
men  have,  so  far,  proved  alike  inaccurate  and  unhappy.  All  of 
these  have  been  characterized  chiefly  by  dryness  of  detail  and  have 
either  been  devoted  to  unbounded  praise  or  unlimited  blame,  and 
hence  have  fallen  short  of  truth  and  justice. 

To  accomplish  the  purpose  of  these  attempts,  it  is  necessary 
that  one  should  not  only  have  been  amongst  them,  but  of  them — to 
have  been  in  some  manner  identified  in  their  aims,  to  have  shared 
their  hardships  and  to  have  triumphed  with  them  over  difficulties 
and  dangers.  Rude  and  unlettered,  as  were  the  most  of  these  rug- 
ged heroes  of  an  era  without  a parallel  in  the  world’s  history  for 
desperate  daring  and  godlike  endurance,  they  should  be  given  as 
high  a niche  in  the  temple  of  fame  as  our  more  cultivated,  but  not 
more  deserving,  patriots.  Ere  the  destroying  hand  that  sweeps 
over  the  all-embracing  dial  of  time  has  erased  alike  all  record  of  the 
courage  of  the  hero  and  the  trembling  of  the  coward,  it  is  not  only 
a duty,  but  should  be  a pleasure,  to  place  aright  upon  historic  an- 
nals the  deeds  and  aims  of  our  pioneers.  Such  a task  has  long 

4d 


44 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


been  in  contemplation  by  the  writer,  and  the  present  is  its  culmi- 
nation. 

There  very  naturally  exists  an  undying  interest  in  the  heroic  and 
manifestly  unselfish  work  of  Boone,  Kenton,  Brady  and  Clarke — 
of  Fitzpatrick,  Sublette,  Leo  Pallardy,  and  Carson — of  Austin, 
Travis,  Bowie,  Bean,  and  their  comrades,  and  in  the  present  en- 
deavor to  satisfy  that  commendable  curiosity,  and  to  set  forth  in 
their  true  light  the  remarkable  lives  and  exploits  of  these  men,  we 
feel  that  we  not  only  render  a willing  though  tardy  justice  to  their 
memories,  but  also  fulfill  a duty  toward  all  who  desire  to  per- 
petuate with  accuracy  the  varying  phases  of  life  and  adventure, 
that  have  characterized  the  different  periods  of  American  develop- 
ment. To  do  this  intelligently,  it  will  be  necessary  to  take  a brief 
and  impartial,  but  comprehensive  view  of  the  condition  and  con- 
duct of  the  two  warring  races  in  their  combats  and  treaties  with 
each  other,  as  well  as  of  the  other  relations  brought  about  by  the 
iron  hand  of  destiny. 

Preceding  the  advent  of  the  Anglo-Norman  upon  the  American 
continent,  we  find  that  it  had  already  been  the  scene  of  battles,  in 
which  the  Mound-Builder  had  annihilated  an  inferior  race,  and  in 
turn  had  himself  gone  to  the  wall  in  a war  of  extermination,  the 
only  warfare  ever  waged  by  the  savage  clans  of  the  implacable  red 
man.  To  what  height  the  civilization  of  the  Mound-Builder  had 
attained,  at  the  time  of  his  unavailing  struggles  and  final  extinction, 
but  a few  fragments  of  carved  and  colored  pottery  and  more  or  less 
extensive  fortifications  attest,  but  as  these  are  always  an  evidence 
of  a fair  degree  of  progress,  we  know  that  they  were  immensely 
superior  to  the  brutal  savages  who  succeeded  them. 

Implements  of  copper,  tempered  to  the  hardness  and  elasticity  of 
our  best  steel,  and  gigantic  tumuli,  constructed  with  geometric 
regularity,  give  additional  evidence  of  the  advancement  of  one  or 
more  races  prior  to  the  Indian.  Annihilated  by  the  swarming 
hordes  of  their  barbarous  enemies,  whose  origin  is,  and  doubtless 
will  ever  remain,  wrapped  in  impenetrable  mystery,  the  subject  for 
vague  speculation  and  unsatisfied  conjecture,  the  latter  were  destined 
to  make  way  for  the  superior  energy  and  higher  mental  and  physi- 
cal attributes  of  the  white  man,  who  seems  ordained  by  Providence 
to  dominate  the  world. 


HARDY  HEROES. 


45 


To  the  speculative  philosopher  there  is  no  more  alluring  field  for 
the  exercise  of  legitimate  conjecture,  than  the  examination  of  this 
subject  of  American  civilization,  which  seems  to  have  alternately 
risen  and  fallen,  as  the  waves  upon  the  broad  bosom  of  the  ocean, 


DANIEL  BOONE  IN  EARLY  MANHOOD. 

and  the  conclusions  reached  by  the  intelligent  mind  point  plainly  to 
the  fact  that  this  civilization  was  not  the  work  of  chance,  nor  car- 
ried out  by  any,  save  agents  especially  chosen  and  trained  for  the 
service.  For  instance,  if  anything  can  be  said  to  be  certain,  in  a 


46 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


world  so  fallible  as  this,  we  may  surely  assume  that  such  men  as 
Boone,  Kenton,  and  Clarke  did  not,  by  accident,  stumble  into  the 
places  filled  by  them,  as  no  others  could  have  filled  them.  Their 
determination  to  persevere  against  the  most  terrible  odds,  and  their 
preservation  in  the  midst  of  countless  dangers  seem,  the  oue,  the 
result  of  inspiration — the  other,  almost,  if  not  quite,  miraculous. 

Upheld  by  the  consciousness  of  their  mission,  we  see  them 
boldly,  almost  rashly  (if  the  inspirations  of  destiny  can  be  rash), 
daring  the  horrors  of  defeat,  capture  and  death  at  the  hands  of 
their  savage  enemies,  whose  superior  numbers  alone  would,  with 
most  men  at  least,  have  caused  a hesitation,  which  would  have  been 
as  fatal  to  the  purpose  for  which  they  struggled,  as  would  the  most 
cowardly  inaction.  The  souls  of  these  hardy  heroes  seemed  ever  to 
be  upheld,  as  if  by  the  inspiring  strains  of  martial  music,  and,  like 
the  “Lion-Hearted”  Bichard,  amid  the  scorching  sands  of  Palestine, 
they  beat  off  the  swarms  of  their  opponents,  as  though  they  were 
giants  battling  with  pigmies. 

Tallyrand  is  said  to  have  remarked  to  some  one,  who  spoke  of 
the  wonderful  military  success  of  Napoleon,  that  his  firmly  fixed 
belief  in  the  unsetting  “star  of  his  destiny”  was  worth  to  him  five 
hundred  thousand  men,  in  his  single-handed  combat  against  the 
combined  nations  of  Europe,  and  so  to  these  lesser  known,  but  none 
the  less  heroic  men,  the  consciousness  of  the  duty  they  had  to  per- 
form was  at  all  times  a noble  stimulus  to  prevent  the  flagging  en- 
ergy and  the  faltering  faith. 

Some  may  sneer  at  the  daring  comparison  of  these  “homespun 
heroes”  with  the  brilliant  Emperor  of  France,  whose  wonderful 
career  dazzled  the  eyes  of  the  world  and  revolutionized  modern  Eu- 
rope, and  whose  imprint,  to  this  day,  has  never  been  effaced  from 
the  nations,  over  whose  destinies  he  wielded  an  influence  almost 
omnipotent.  Of  such  cavilers  I would  ask  if  the  men,  who  gave 
directly  to  civilization  the  vast  territory  lying  between  the  Alle- 
gheny Mountains  and  the  Mississippi  Biver,  and  indirectly  the 
whole  of  the  boundless  West,  are  not  worthy  of  all  honor?  This 
grand  empire,  fed  by  a hundred  broad  rivers,  and  blooming  with 
the  beauty  and  fertility  of  its  lovely  valleys,  capable  of  maintaining 
the  united  peoples  of  Europe,  and  destined  to  equal  them  in  popu- 
lation, was  certainly  as  grand  a conquest  as  those  of  the  daring 
Corsican,  and  made  against  odds  a hundred-fold  more  desperate. 


HARDY  HEROES. 


47 


As  it  was  his  destiny  to  wipe  out  the  effete  thrones  and  rotten 
dynasties  of  the  Old  World,  so  it  was  theirs  to  supplant  the  useless 
and  barbarous  tribes  of  the  red  man  with  the  arts  and  industries  of 
the  Caucasian,  in  the  New. 

It  does  not  seem  overbold  to  say,  that  the  mission  of  the  Indian 
on  this  continent  had  been  fulfilled,  upon  the  arrival  of  the  Euro- 
pean, and  while  the  sentimentalist  may  lament  his  picturesqueness, 
that  has  departed  forever,  yet  the  humanitarian  can  hardly  deplore 
the  fact  that  an  era  of  enlightenment  has  succeeded  to  one  of 
savagery,  and  that  the  spear  of  the  hunter  has  vanished  before 
the  plough-share  of  the  agriculturalist. 

It  is  also  safe,  we  think,  to  say  that  the  red  race  was  a doomed 
one,  even  had  the  white  man  never  set  foot  upon  the  shores  of  the 
Western  continent,  as  the  internecine  warfare  of  tribe  against  tribe 
would  have  eventually  exterminated  them  without  his  aid  or  interven- 
tion. This  view  may  be  somewhat  novel,  but  it  is  most  certainly 
borne  out  by  the  facts,  for  the  Cavalier,  in  Virginia,  and  the  Round- 
head,  at  Plymouth  Rock,  found  small,  fragmentary  tribes,  that  wars, 
massacres,  and  pestilences,  had  already  reduced  to  mere  handfuls. 
Unprolific,  improvident,  living  by  the  chase  and  building  no  per- 
manent habitations,  they  were  liable  at  any  time  to  become  the 
sport  of  misery  and  mischance,  the  prey  of  cold  and  famine.  Sub- 
ject to  the  ravages  of  disease,  their  sole  remedial  measures  were 
those  of  the  superstitious  in  all  ages,  the  howling  incantations  of 
magicians  and  medicine-men. 

In  addition  to  these  causes  of  decrease,  we  find  that  the  bow  and 
arrow  were  their  sole  missile  weapons,  and  thus  their  wars  of  any 
magnitude  must  have  invariably  been  settled  by  the  club  and  stone 
battle-axe,  and  any  reader  of  history  knows  how  bloody  and  bitter 
has  ever  been  the  warfare  of  nations  fighting  in  hand-to-hand  com- 
bat. 

If  it  were  necessary  to  offer  justification  for  the  establishment  of 
civilization  at  the  cost  of  a war,  in  which  moral  has  triumphed  over 
physical  force,  and  enlightenment  over  barbarism,  a thousand  ex- 
cuses strong  and  valid  stand  ready  to  the  mind  of  the  moralist,  as 
the  following  facts  prove.  In  spite  of  the  beautifully  drawn  and 
charmingly  colored  word  pictures  of  Cooper  and  other  novelists,  we 
know  that  the  Indian,  with  but  rare  exceptions,  was  singularly  de- 
void of  any  traits  of  humanity  and  magnanimity,  and  thoroughly 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


HARDY  HEROES. 


49 


imbued  with  the  passion  for  war  and  bloodshed.  We  find  him  just 
what  we  have  every  reason  to  expect  of  a brutal  savage,  a mur- 
dering marauder,  and  a truer  Ishmaelite,  than  he  of  the  African 
deserts,  “his  hand  against  every  man.” 

The  Apache  of  our  Southwestern  border  and  of  Old  Mexico  does 
not  differ  in  anything,  save  language  and  habitat,  from  the  Leni- 
Lenape  of  the  Atlantic  Coast.  A chasm  of  a hundred  years  lies 
between  the  warfare  of  the  one  and  that  of  the  other,  and  yet  it 
has  changed  in  nothing,  gained  in  nothing.  As  in  the  day  of  the 
pilgrim,  the  wretched  captive  is  subjected  to  all  the  tortures  that  a 
fiendish  ingenuity  can  invent,  and  a brutal  nature  carry  out.  Join- 
ing to  the  ferocity  of  the  tiger,  the  cunning  of  the  fox,  his  warfare 
is  not  the  open  combat  of  the  Caucasian,  but  the  midnight  attack 
with  all  of  its  attendant  horrors  of  robbery,  rapine  and  murder. 
Lacking  the  unyielding  nerve  and  the  indomitable  courage  of  the 
superior  race,  he  depends  invariably  on  the  sudden  surprise,  the 
fatal  ambush,  or  overwhelming  numbers;  and  but  seldom  dares  a 
bold  trial  of  military  skill  and  manly  courage  in  the  fair  field,  and 
yet,  in  spite  of  all  his  strategy,  his  struggle  has  ever  been  that  of 
man  against  unconquerable  destiny. 

The  maudlin  sentimentalist  has  deplored  in  prose  and  verse  the 
hard  fortune  of  the  Indian,  whom  he  pictures  as  an  ideal  character 
of  unlettered  wisdom,  unbounded  courage  and  unparalleled  mag- 
nanimity, a being  of  noble  mien  and  majestic  mind,  one,  in  fact, 

“Where  every  god  did  seem  to  set  his  seal 
To  give  the  world  assurance  of  a man.” 

Truth  and  a more  intimate  acquaintance  with  this  “paragon  of 
animals”  compel  us,  however,  to  doubt  his  lordly  attributes,  and  on 
nearer  view  he  is  seen  to  be  filthy  in  person,  speech  and  action; 
cowardly  in  conduct;  selfish  in  feeling;  brutal  in  mind,  and  false 
in  everything.  The  claims  of  his  apologists,  that  he  has  been  ren- 
dered savage  by  the  injustice  of  those  with  whom  he  has  come  in 
contact,  and  who  have  in  every  instance  spoiled  and  degraded  him, 
would  speak  but  poorly  for  the  honesty  and  generosity  of  the  white 
race,  but  happily  it  is  easily  proved  that  such  assertions  are  utterly 
false. 

If  we  take  Kentucky  as  an  example  of  the  dealings  between  the 
two  races,  we  find  that  the  following  are  the  facts  in  the  case.  This 


50 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


territory  was  a neutral  land,  held  by  none  of  the  Indians  in  sever, 
alty,  but  used  by  all  of  them  as  a common  hunting-ground.  Visited 
by  the  Shawnese,  Mingoes,  Miamies,  and  all  of  the  Northwestern 
tribes,  and  by  the  Cherokees  of  the  South  and  their  allies,  none  of 
them  made  the  slightest  exclusive  claim  to  it,  and  by  a tacit  consent 
not  a single  permanent  wigwam  was  set  up  in  this  extensive  terri- 
tory, used  only  as  a hunting-ground,  and  known,  from  the  bloody 
broils  between  the  various  tribes,  as  “the  dark  and  bloody  ground.” 

This  sanguinary  title  was  a well  deserved  one,  for,  like  the 
proverbial  Irishman  at  Donnybrook,  who  could  not  resist  the 
chance  of  hitting  a head,  no  matter  who  might  be  its  owner,  so 
these  savages,  in  their  thirst  for  blood,  never  lost  an  opportunity  of 
slaughtering  any  weaker  party  of  Indians,  whom  they  might  encoun- 
ter. 

Unable  of  course  to  convey  any  valid  title  to  this  territory,  we 
find  it  sold  first  by  one  tribe  and  then  another,  and  these  sales  rati- 
fied by  solemn  treaties  in  ceremonious  councils,  from  which  the  In- 
dians stole  away  to  assassinate  ti  e purchaser,  to  whom  they  had  so 
lately  extended  their  hands  and  hospitality  and  with  whom  they  had 
smoked  the  pipe  of  peace.  Lacking  the  fidelity  of  the  robber  races 
of  the  desert,  we  find  that  the  only  “burying  of  the  hatchet,”  which 
could  be  safely  calculated  upon  at  all  times,  was  that  it  would  be 
buried  in  the  brain  of  the  defenseless  and  unarmed  at  every  opportu- 
nity. 

On  account  of  these  sales,  it  will  be  seen  that  the  charge  so  often 
made  against  Boone,  Kenton  and  the  other  pioneers,  that  they  were 
trespassers  upon  Indian  territory,  when  they  began  the  colonization 
of  Kentucky,  is  a false  accusation.  Boone,  in  fact,  made  his  first  ex- 
cursion, for  the  purpose  of  settlement,  under  the  auspices  of  Hender- 
son, who  had  purchased  from  the  Cherokees  and  who  certainly  had 
a right  to  survey  and  people  his  honestly  acquired  lands. 

In  that  day,  as  in  this,  the  selfish  avarice  of  the  Indian  prompted 
him  to  a willingness  to  despoil  his  future  generations,  in  order  that  he 
might  gratify  his  present  appetites  and  then,  equally  as  now,  his  in- 
nate duplicity  made  him  indifferent  to  the  bonds  of  his  most  solemn 
treaties  and  obligations.  Continuing  the  traditions  of  the  relations 
between  the  white  man  and  the  red,  we  find,  at  the  present  time,  that 
the  brutal  savage  has  his  apologists  and  instigators,  though  these  now 


HARDY  HEROES. 


51 


differ  somewhat  from  those  who  undertook  that  office  in  the  pioneer 
days  of  the  West.  Then  it  was  the  renegade  white  man,  like  Girty 


A SAVAGE  PARADISE— INDIAN  RIVER,  FLORIDA. 

and  McKee — now  it  is  the  thieving  Indian  Agent,  his  ally  the  trader, 
and  their  rascally  following  of  brutal  half-bi’eeds  and  degraded  whites. 


52 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Some  innocent  but  misinformed  apologists,  too,  may  be  found  in 
the  cities  of  the  East  who  mourn  his  banishment  from  his  paradise 
in  the  Florida  swamps,  or  Kentucky  forests,  for  there  the  Uncases 
and  Wingemunds  are  known  only  as  the  god-like  creations  of  Cooper’s 
pages,  and  not  as  the  remorseless  fiends,  whose  lust  and  brutality  have 
marked  the  West  with  trails  of  blood  and  agony,  and  who  have  left 
behind  them,  on  mountain  and  in  vale,  their  accursed  sign  manual 
in  the  mangled  corpses  of  murdered  men  and  hellish  pollution  of 
outraged  women. 

Mellowed  by  the  wonderful  enchantment  of  distance,  and,  let  us 
not  neglect  to  add,  safety,  these  truths  do  not  horrify  the  urban 
moralist,  who  utters  his  plaintive  protest  against  the  gradual  extinc- 
tion of  savage  grandeur  and  nobility  and  longs  for  its  reinstatement, 
but  to  the  lonely  miner  amid  the  mountain  peaks  of  far-off  Arizona, 
or  to  the  solitary  settler  on  the  Comanche-cursed  plains  of  sunny 
Texas,  a lament  for  the  extirpation  of  the  dreaded  rattlesnake,  or 
the  extermination  of  the  skulking  panther,  would  seem  fully  as  ap- 
propriate. 


CHAPTER  n. 


THE  STRUGGLE  AGAINST  DESTINY, 


SAVAGE  IDIOSYNCRACIES “AGAINST  HIS  MEDICINE”  A CELEBRATED 

FRENCH  DUELIST ERRONEOUS  IDEAS THE  RESULT  OF  HEREDITARY 

INSTINCTS CAPTAIN  JOHN  SMITH  OF  VIRGINIA MENTAL  QUALITIES 

THE  TIDE  OF  IMMIGRATION SETTLEMENT  OF  KENTUCKY THE  ANGLO- 

NORMAN THE  BATTLING  OF  CHILDREN  AGAINST  GIANTS THE  CHRIS- 
TIANS’ CREEDS MORAL  SUASION BRUTE  FORCE HOSPITALITY NO 

REDEEMING  TRAITS THE  KENTUCKY  PIONEERS THE  MARCH  OF  DES- 
TINY  OPENING  UP  THE  WILDERNESS FROM  OCEAN  TO  OCEAN. 


To  justify  the  expression  of  opinion — given  in  the  introduction — 
which  to  some  may  seem  harsh,  I would  state  that  these  ideas  were 
not  gathered  from  hearsay,  nor  the  evidence  of  others,  but  are  the 
results  of  personal  observations  made  during  an  intimate  acquaint- 
ance and  companionship  with  the  Indians,  and  of  which  observa- 
tions notes  were  taken  upon  the  spot,  for  the  purpose  to  which 
they  are  now  applied.  I know  that  these  statements  traverse  in 
many  things,  yes,  in  most,  the  opinions  of  Eastern  writers — who  so 
far  have  monopolized  the  subject  of  Western  and  Indian  life  and 
manners — but  they  may  be  relied  on  as  correct.  To  the  man  unac- 
quainted with  the  Indian’s  language,  habits  and  modes  of  thought, 
the  most  intelligent  descriptions  of  his  daily  life  would  fail  to  con- 
vey a full  and  intelligent  comprehension  of  savage  idiosyncracies, 
and  only  the  dweller  amongst  them  can  trace  to  its  proper  source,  the 
instigation  of  his  deeds,  or  the  inward  motive  upon  which  he  has 
acted. 

Interwoven  with  his  traditions,  and  with  his  very  existence,  are 
superstitions  and  manners,  that  form  the  basis  of  his  seeming 
eccentricities  and  his  unfathomed  beliefs.  Murder  with  him  depends 
often  upon  a whim,  or  an  omen,  and  a bloody  war  may  result  from 
an  unintentional  offense  against  his  “medicine.”  This  medicine 
being  an  individual  adoption  of  each  savage,  it  is  impossible — at  all 
times — to  avoid  offending  against  it,  as  it  is  never  alike  in  the  case 
of  any  two  of  them.  I have  read  nearly  every  book  bearing  upon 
the  Indian  subject,  and  have  been  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  it  is 
an  absolute  impossibility  for  the  man,  who  has  not,  mingled  with 

53 


54 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


them,  to  place  himself  en  rapport  with  them.  They  lack  that  sub- 
tle free  masonry  of  commingling,  which  alone  overcomes  an  intangi- 
ble, but  nevertheless  an  otherwise  impassable  boundary. 

“I  never  like  a man,  till  I have  fought  him,”  said  a celebrated 
French  duelist,  “for  until  then  I never  understand  him.”  This  is 
especially  true  of  the  American  Indian;  to  understand  him,  you 
must  have  fought  him,  hunted  and  trapped  with  him,  slept  in  his 
lodge,  and  joined  in  his  forays.  Then  his  secret  thoughts  become 
yours,  and  you  learn  to  appreciate  at  his  true  worth,  or  want  of  it, 
this  tawny  robber  and  stoic  murderer.  Until  then,  he  is  a sealed 
book,  or  a riddle  to  which  the  key  has  been  lost.  Of  course  there 
are  some  exceptions  to  the  opinions  herein  expressed,  as  every 
general  rule  has  them,  and  I am  only  too  glad  to  admit  it — would 
they  were  more  frequent. 

It  has  long  been  my  intention  to  endeavor  to  correct,  in  some 
measure,  the  erroneous  ideas  so  generally  prevalent,  and  no  time 
seems  more  tit  than  the  present,  when  these  savage  marauders  are 
being  as  rapidly  as  possible  collected  upon  reservations,  and  their 
hostilities  and  their  habits,  in  a state  of  unbounded  freedom,  will 
soon  have  passed  into  history.  From  the  hand,  that  has  wielded 
rifle  and  trap  upon  the  plains,  and  pole-pick  and  gold-pan  in  the 
mountains,  may  not  flow  the  honied  graces  of  the  sentimental 
scribblers,  who  paint  ideal  Indians  and  benevolent  Indian- Agents, 
but  it  will  honestly  record  the  life  of  plains  and  mountains,  as  seen 
in  the  lodge  of  the  Indian,  the  tent  of  the  prospector  and  the  camp 
of  the  trapper. 

If  we  seek  for  the  causes  which  make  the  American  a being  of 
migratory  habits,  with  no  love  of  place  and  wanting  in  the  English- 
man’s strong  affection  for  the  home  of  his  forefathers,  they  are 
easily  found,  and  like  the  migrations  of  birds  and  other  animals, 
are  the  results  of  hereditary  instincts.  This  may  not  seem  clear  to 
the  reader,  especially  since  he  knows  that  the  earliest  ancestors  of 
the  Americans  were  English.  That  we  grant,  but  they  were  Eng- 
lish adventurers;  the  brave,  the  enterprising,  the  dissatisfied  and 
the  restless  in  all  ranks  of  life,  for  we  find  that  the  first  settlers  of 
this  continent  were  younger  brothers,  discharged  soldiers,  retired 
officers,  venturesome  sailors;  men  of  all  arts  and  trades,  of  every 
profession  and  degree,  except  staid  burgers,  and  those  representa- 
tives of  the  benefits  of  a law  of  primogeniture,  the  eldest  brothers. 


I 


THE  STRUGGLE  AGAINST  DESTINY.  55 

Look  at  a representative  character  of  that  day,  Captain  John 
Smith,  of  Virginia ! Here  was  a man,  whose  actual  deeds  far 
exceed  the  ideal  exploits  of  any  of  the  heroes  of  romance ; who  had 
fought  in  every  quarter  of  the  globe,  and  whose  restless  spirit  had 
at  last  led  him  to  the  New  World,  that  he  might  find  novel  fields  of 
adventure  and  benefit  his  countrymen,  while  gathering  additional 
laurels  for  himself.  How  many  more  might  we  not  name,  who 
added  to  desperate  valor  a restless  spirit,  that,  to  use  a Hibernian- 
ism,  found  peace  only  in  war,  and  rest  only  in  action? 


PRESENT  VIEW  OF  THE  BATTLE  FIELD  OF  THE  BLUE  LICKS. 


Descended  from  such  sires,  their  posterity  inherited  their  mental 
qualities,  as  well  as  their  physical  characteristics,  and  as  restlessly 
as  their  fathers,  they  pressed  ever  forward  toward  the  novel  and  the 
dangerous  boundaries  of  the  unknown  wildernesses.  Nothing  proved 
so  great  a lure  to  them  as  an  exploration,  where  excitement  was 
tinctured  with  danger,  and  how  far  they  carried  their  love  of  adven- 
ture is  shown  by  the  perils  they  dared  and  the  difficulties  they 
encountered  and  overcame  in  that  hunter’s  paradise,  denominated  by 
the  red  man  Kan-tuck-ee. 

Pouring  across  the  Alleghanies  in  a flood,  at  first  insignificant,  the 
tide  of  immigration  may  not  be  inaptly  compared  to  a leak  in  one 


56 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


of  the  dykes  of  Holland.  At  first  a few  drops  trickle  slowly 
through  the  mighty  barrier,  but  as  the  hours  go  by,  these  tiny  drops 
become  a flowing  stream.  Their  volume  increases  with  every  beat 
of  the  clock — with  every  pulsation  of  the  sea — and  at  last  confident 
of  their  terrible  power,  with  a hoarse  roar  they  burst  all  bonds, 
overleap  all  boundaries  and  rushing  madly  on,  in  a resistless  tide, 
sweep  away  every  obstacle,  and  deluge  the  shuddering  earth. 

In  the  settlement  of  Kentucky,  we  find  first  Findley,  then 
Boone,  Harrod,  Kenton,  Clarke, — the  multitude.  The  first  were  like 
the  spies  in  Canaan,  their  tales  led  on  their  comrades ; the  solitary 
camp  grew  into  the  block-house,  the  block-house  into  the  larger 


BIRTHPLACE  OF  GEN.  GEORGE  ROGERS  CLARKE. 


post,  the  post  into  the  fort,  with  proper  walls  and  bastions.  These 
in  turn  were  replaced  by  villages,  and  later  these  last  gave  way  to  the 
towns  and  cities.  All  the  while  the  Indian  fought  stubbornly 
against  his  manifest  destiny  and  did  not  fail  to  add  torture  to  death, 
in  order  to  preserve  his  hunting  grounds  and  the  graves  of  his 
fathers.  Idle  hope:  the  Anglo-Norman  was  not  the  pliant  Mound- 
Builder,.  as  he  was  to  learn  to  his  cost,  and  his  time  had  come  to 
give  way  to  a race,  to  whom  the  Almighty,  in  his  inscrutable  omni- 
science, has  given  the  domination  of  his  brother  tribes  of  men. 

All  other  peoples  must  serve  this,  or  must  be  displaced  by  it. 
The  handwriting  was  plain  upon  the  wall,  but  the  savage  could  not, 
or  would  not,  read  it.  His  purposeless  warfare  of  hatred  and 


THE  STRUGGLE  AGAINST  DESTINY. 


57 


revenge  was  as  the  battling  of  children  against  giants,  and  its  end 
decreed  ages  before  the  arrival  of  the  white  man  upon  his  shores. 
His  destiny  had  been  accomplished,  he  lingered  supurfluous  upon 
the  scene,  and  now  he  must  make  way  for  the  superior  race,  and  his 
barbarism  must  go  down  before  the  grand  forces  of  civilization. 
Is  it  possible  that  anyone  can  regret  the  result  ? 

The  fertile  valleys,  which  could  at  best  supply  the  game  for  a few 
hundreds  of  wandering  savages,  were  to  teem  with  thousands  of  hus- 
bandmen,  and  the  miserable  wigwams  and  lodges  of  the  Indians  were 
to  be  displaced  by  happy  homes,  where  peace  was  the  theme  and 
love  the  motive,  instead  of  hate  and  war.  Where  the  miserable 
savage,  in  his  indolence,  paid  no  heed  to  the  passing  hours,  there 
were  to  spring  up  industries,  that  would  benefit  the  world,  and  where 
his  superstition  made  him  the  prey  of  gloomy  prejudices  and  of  hor- 
rible sacrifices,  there  was  to  arise  the  pure  and  noble  fabric  of  the 
Christian’s  creeds;  the  gentle  worship  of  “the  lowly  Nazarene.” 

As  the  eating  cancer  must  needs  call  forth  the  kindly  surgeon’s 
knife,  so  too  were  harsh  measures  necessary  to  substitute,  for 
the  evils  of  barbarism,  the  benefits  of  civilization.  No  moral  sua- 
sion would  force  the  Indian  to  honor  as  sacred  his  solemn  treaties ; 
no  regard  for  truth,  keep  him  to  the  line  of  honesty  in  his  dealings 
with  the  white  man.  Commiseration  he  repaid  with  treachery,  and 
forbearance  with  midnight  murder.  His  virtues,  as  well  as  his  vices, 
were  those  of  a child  grown  to  a man’s  stature. 

He  could  never  comprehend  that  any  being  could  or  would  rely  on 
aught  save  brute  force,  in  his  dealings  wTith  others  weaker  than  him- 
self. He  could  never  learn  truth  and  honor,  either  as  a policy  or  a 
principle,  and  ever  regarded  theft  as  a legitimate  acquisition  of  prop- 
erty. 

His  bravery  was  not  the  steady,  enduring  courage  of  the  Caucas- 
ian, but  the  fierce,  sudden  ebullition  of  the  beast,  that  makes  its 
mad  rush  and,  if  it  does  not  carry  all  before  it,  retires  to  make 
another  spring  at  some  future  time.  Unlike  the  desert’s  Bedouins, 
hospitality,  tendered  or  accepted  by  the  Indian,  carried  with  it  noth- 
ing of  sacredness  or  protection.  Unlike  every  other  nation,  he 
spared  neither  infancy,  sex  nor  age,  in  his  cruel  warfare,  and  utterly 
without  magnanimity,  made  horrid  tortures  the  prelude  to  the  death 
of  his  prisoners. 

In  vain  we  search  for  any  virtues  to  counterbalance  the  hideous- 
ness of  his  crimes,  for  if  we  except  his  love  of  offspring — shared  in 


58 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


common  with  the  fiercest  brutes — we  find  no  redeeming  traits  in  his 
character.  His  seeming  patriotism,  in  battling  for  the  soil,  was 
merely  a selfish  consideration  for  its  value  as  a hunting  ground  ; his 
so-called  eloquence  a noisy  flux  of  words. 

“ Look  upon  this  picture  and  on  this.” 

His  opponent  in  the  lists,  wherein  Christian  civilization  stood  pit- 
ted against  pagan  barbarism,  was  an  instrument  in  the  hands  of 
Providence  worthy  of  all  admiration.  If  we  take  Boone  as  the  type 
of  the  Kentucky  pioneers,  we  find  in  him  united  the  philosophy  of 
the  stoic,  the  courage  of  the  demi-god,  the  firm  purpose  of  the 


OLD  ROYAL  STREET  AT  JAMESTOWN,  VIRGINIA. 


statesman,  and  the  humanity  of  the  Christian.  Confident  of  his  mis- 
sion from  the  Almighty  to  colonize  Kentucky,  no  hardships  could 
daunt  him,  no  dangers  turn  him  from  his  path.  No  Roman,  in 
Rome’s  grandest  days,  was  ever  more  the  slave  of  duty  than  Boone  ; 
no  hero  of  ancient  Greece  ever  more  willingly  surrendered  all  of  ease 
and  comfort,  that  he  might  benefit  his  nation. 

Brave  in  action,  ready  in  expedient,  wise  in  council  and  modest 
in  speech,  Boone  stands  forth  a true  representative  of  his  people  and 
his  class.  With  no  thirst  for  slaughter,  all  the  outrages  of  the  In- 
dians brought  from  these  men  of  the  heroic  Anglo-Norman  blood 


THE  STRUGGLE  AGAINST  DESTINY. 


59 


no  retaliation  in  kind.  When  they  warred,  it  was  upon  men  ; when 
they  killed,  it  was  in  the  heat  of  battle.  At  no  time  could  the  com- 
bat between  two  such  races  have  ever  been  doubtful.  The  white 
man  might  for  a while  be  retarded  in  his  onward  progress,  but  his 
march  was  the  march  of  destiny;  his  footsteps,  those  of  fate. 

That  such  men  have  left  their  imprint  not  only  on  their  own  time, 
but  have  transmitted  to  their  posterity  their  traits  and  their  peculiari- 
ties, is  not  to  be  doubted.  Everywhere  we  find  their  descendants  men 
free  of  heart  and  noble  of  soul.  Hospitality  with  them  is  a duty, 
and  readiness  to  assist  any  one  in  distress  as  natural  to  their  hearts, 
as  is  the  warm  blood  coursing  through  their  veins.  Brave  even  to 
recklessness  and  somewhat  too  ready  to  avenge  an  insult,  they  are 
yet  kind  and  chivalrous  to  all,  and  to  such  men  much  of  rashness 
may  easily  be  forgiven.  As  ready  as  were  their  fathers,  to  venture 
when  danger  or  excitement  was  the  incentive,  we  find  them  opening 
up  the  wilderness  to  settlement,  trading  and  trapping  in  the  midst 
of  hostile  Indians,  and  in  the  distant  Sierras  forcing  nature’s  strong 
box,  and  rifling  it  of  the  treasures  she  has  deeply  locked  in  her  rock- 
ribbed  vaults.  • 

Whether  on  the  sandy  plains,  that  stretch  their  arid  expanse 
beneath  the  blistering  suns  of  summer,  or  upon  the  towering  crags 
and  awful  chasms  of  the  snow-clad  mountains,  we  find  them  ever  the 
same — fearless,  frank  and  free.  And  nobly  do  these  men  continue 
the  purposes  of  their  fathers.  Without  them  to-day,  we  would 
have  no  broad  and  boundless  West — the  grandest  empire  the  world 
ever  saw.  Without  their  spirit  to  have  planned  and  pushed  our  con- 
quest, the  close  of  the  Revolutionary  war  would  have  found  the 
United  States  comprised  within  the  bounds  east  of  the  Apalachian 
Range,  and  all  of  the  rest  of  our  broad  territory  in  possession  of  the 
English,  French  and  Spaniards.  Had  not  the  hardy  pioneers  of 
Kentucky  grown  impatient  of  their  limits  and,  pushing  up  the  steep 
walls  of  the  Alleghanies,  burst  into  the  unknown  lands  beyond,  who 
can  doubt  but  that  our  boundaries  and  our  destinies  might  now  be 
widely  different  from  their  vast  stretch  from  ocean  to  ocean ; that 
grand  expanse,  of  such  extent  that,  asDeQuincy  quaintly  says,  “the 
moon  must  grow  weary  in  its  long  course  over  this  enormous  conti- 
nent.” 


CHAPTER  HI. 


THE  INDIANS  AND  THEIR  BRITISH  ALLIES. 


FARING  DISPOSITION  OF  THE  KENTUCKY  PIONEERS THE  EXPLORATION  OF 

FINDLEY THE  INHERITED  LOYE  OF  LIBERTY CONQUEST  ON  KEN- 
TUCKY AND  THE  NORTHWESTERN  TERRITORY A SOURCE  OF  REGRET 

OUR  VANISHED  HEROES A POWER  SECOND  TO  NONE THE  WONDER  OF 

THE  WORLD THE  TREASURES  OF  WEALTH  AND  ART TWO  HUNDRED 

MILLIONS  OF  PEOPLE CAPACITIES  FOR  PRODUCTION THE  YOUNG  RE- 
PUBLIC OF  THE  NEW  WORLD OUR  REVENUES THE  ARBITER  OF  THE 

WORLD’S  DESTINIES. 


Had  not  Kentucky,  first,  then  Illinois  and  Ohio,  been  wrenched 
from  the  grasp  of  the  Indians  and  their  British  allies,  by  the  adven- 
turous spirit  of  the  pioneeis,  the  Americans  would  have  been  cooped 
up  in  the  narrow  territory  lying  along  the  Atlantic  sea-board  and 
within  our  present  bounds  we  should  now  have  witnessed  the  estab- 
lishment of  three,  if  not  four,  nations.  The  unity  of  our  nationality 
is  due  to  the  aggressive  and  adventurous  spirit  of  these  pioneers, 
whom  no  dangers  could  deter,  no  numbers  appal,  and  before  whom 
not  only  the  savage  Indian,  but  the  imperious  Briton,  the  haughty 
Spaniard  and  the  gallant  Frenchman  were  forced  to  retire. 

If  this  is  conceded,  and  it  cannot  be  truly  denied,  it  will  be  seen 
that  the  daring  disposition  of  the  Kentucky  pioneers  gave  to  the 
United  States  the  richest  domain  ever  acquired  by  any  nation  since 
the  world  began;  a territory  not  only  rich  m its  unbounded  possibili- 
ties of  products,  herds  and  manufactures,  but  teeming  with  the  ac- 
tual wealth  of  gold  and  silver  in  such  quantity  as  was  never  before 
dreamed  of. 

How  momentous  was  the  exploration  of  Findley  and  the  deter- 
mination of  Boone  will  forever  remain  a subject  of  speculation,  and 
of  speculation  only,  but  this  much  we  may  know  with  absolute  cer- 
tainty, that  it  changed  the  boundaries  and  the  plans  of  four  nations, 
the  grandest  on  the  globe,  and  blessed  one  of  them  with  treasures 
far  exceeding  those 

“Of  Ormus  or  of  Ind.” 

How  far  ambition  may  lead  the  possessors  of  this  vast  territory, 
when  the  density  of  its  population  shall  nearly  equal  that  of  Europe, 

60 


THE  INDIANS  AND  THEIR  BRITISH  ALLIES. 


61 


is — happily  for  us — still  in  the  womb  of  the  future,  but  let  us 
hope  that  it  will  not  win  us  from  the  republican  simplicity,  (not  only 
of  manners  but  of  government)  of  those,  whose  blood  and  toil  and 
tears  gave  to  us  the  mighty  heritage.  The  fears  of  the  ultra-timid, 
that  some  ambitious  ruler  may  assume  the  purple  and  on  the  ruins 
of  our  republic  may  build  up  an  empire,  need  cause  no  fear,  until 


INDIANS  AND  BRITISH  RENEGADE  MAKING  A CAPTURE. 


the  purity  of  our  ancestors’  blood  is  drowned  in  a strain  of  that  of  the 
servile  subjects  of  Old  World  monarchies.  Thus  are  we  indebted 
to  these  noble  pioneers,  not  only  for  the  grandeur  of  our  terri- 
tory, but  also  for  the  inherited  love  of  libertv,  that  has  made  us 
freemen  and  will  keep  us  free. 


62 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


So  much  we  have  been  led  to  say  concerning  the  general  history 
of  the  conquest  of  Kentucky  and  the  northwestern  territory, 
merely  by  way  of  prelude  to  the  histories  of  Boone,  Kenton,  Clark 
and  others  of  the  pioneers,  whose  deeds  speak  for  themselves,  and 
whose  plainest,  most  matter-of-fact  recital  exceeds  in  interest  the 
imaginary  exploits  of  the  novelists5  heroes.  Kennedy,  the  novelist, 
once  asked  a gentleman  to  select  for  him  the  subject  of  a novel,  and 
was  advised  to  take  the  life  of  Captain  John  Smith  and  give  it  in  all 
its  truth,  merely  disguising  names,  places  and  dates.  “It  would  not 
do,”  said  Kennedy,  “not  a single  reader  but  would  pronounce  it  im- 
probable— even  beyond  the  bounds  of  the  possible.  No,  sir,  it 
would  not  do!”  What  better  proof  do  we  need  that  “truth  is 
stranger  than  fiction,  when  a novelist,  whose  business  it  is  to  manu- 
facture exciting  situations  and  dramatic  incidents,  acknowledges  that 
he  would  not  dare  to  serve  to  his  readers  a true  history  of  one  of 
the  pioneers  of  America,  for  fear  his  readers  might  cry  out:  “the 
novel  is  not  life-like,  its  characters  are  improbable,  its  incidents  im- 
possible.” 

How  truly  wonderful  then  must  have  been  the  lives  of  these  men, 
of  whom  we  know  scarcely  one  exploit  in  ten  of  their  performance  ! 
An  old  friend,  who  was  familiar  with  Boone  in  his  latter  days,  once 
told  me  that  “whenever  the  old  man,  (Boone),  would  get  in  a good 
way  of  talking  he  was  continually  alluding — in  an  incidental  way — to 
various  exploits,”  which  my  friend  had  never  seen  in  print,  and 
which  Boone  seemed  to  think  were  hardly  worthy  of  mention.  It 
will  always  remain  a source  of  regret  that  fuller  materials  do  not 
exist,  for  sketches  of  these  hardy  heroes,  but  their  deeds  have  been 
handed  down  chiefly  by  oral  tradition  and  in  the  eyes  of  their  actors 
seemed  of  so  little  moment,  that  no  pains  were  taken  to  preserve 
them,  and,  even  in  their  own  families,  they  were  suffered  to  be  for- 
gotten. 

Years  hence,  when  the  Indian  has  ceased  to  be  a problem  in  our 
political  economy,  and  when  his  race  shall  have  vanished  forever  from 
our  borders,  every  tradition  of  this  frontier  warfare  will  be 
warmly  cherished,  and  any  token  of  Indian  or  of  pioneer,  will  be 
eagerly  sought  for  and  as  carefully  treasured.  Then  will  admiring  his- 
torians point  with  pride  to  the  legends  of  our  vanished  heroes,  more 
truly  demi-gods,  than  the  Grecian  braves  who  sailed  with  Jason  for  the 
Golden  Fleece,  or  battled  with  bold  Achilles  beneath  the  fated  walls 
of  Troy. 


THE  INDIANS  AND  THEIR  BRITISH  ALLIES. 


63 


It  should  cause  us  gratitude  as  a people  and  pride  as  a nation, 
when  we  reflect  on  the  wondrous  achievements,  that  less  than  a cen- 
tury has  brought  to  us.  In  all  the  records  of  history  we  find  no  par- 
allel. The  puny  colonies,  that  put  their  trust  in  the  God  of  battles, 
and  opposed  the  righteousness  of  their  cause  and  their  weakness  to 
the  strength  and  resources  of  the  grandest  people  the  world  has  ever 
seen  since  the  days  of  mighty  Macedon  and  ancient  Rome,  have  be- 
come a power  second  to  none.  The  trading  posts  and  petty  villages 
of  that  day  are  now  proud  cities,  smiling  with  beauty  and  adorned 


HORSE -SHOE  KENNEDY,  THE  NOVELIST. 

with  all  that  wealth  can  give.  Where  then  the  unbroken  forest 
spread  its  leafy  masses  of  verdure  and  the  tangled  weeds  and  grasses 
of  the  prairie  held  undisputed  sway,  the  land  is  smiling  with  its 
wealth  of  fragrant  orchards  and  its  fields  of  golden  grain. 

Vast  manufactories,*  institutions  of  learning,  navy  yards,  rail- 
roads and  every  form  and  mode  of  wealth  and  industry  have  blessed 
us  beyond  anything  ever  known  before.  The  land  is  filled  with 
riches,  and  stately  homes  now  mark  the  site  of  Indian  camp  and 


G4 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


wigwam.  Our  products  serve  the  nations,  and  our  granaries  feed 
tne  world.  Less  than  one  hundred  years  ago  Louisville,  then 
known  as  the  Falls  of  the  Ohio,  was  a rendezvous  for  Indian  expe- 
ditions, for  traders  and  for  boatmen — to-day  she  counts  her  popula- 
tion by  the  hundreds  of  thousands ; Chicago,  a rude  fort,  situated 
in  the  midst  of  a low  swamp,  was  then  deemed  hardly  fit  for  human 
habitation — to-day  her  people  number  half  a million.  St.  Louis, 
then  a French  trading  post,  now  boasts  a wealth,  a trade  and  a 
population,  the  wonder  of  the  world.  Cincinnati,  or,  as  it  was  then 
known,  Fort  Washington,  now  airs  her  graces  as  the  Paris  of 
America,  outbidding  metropolitan  New  York  for  favorite  musicians, 
and  numbers  close  to  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  people  within 
her  borders. 

Kansas  City,  over  whose  site,  less  than  three  quarters  of  a cen- 
tury ago,  the  wild  deer  bounded,  and  upon  whose  penitentially  steep 
hills  the  pensive  Indian  sat  and  brooded  over  his  races’  ill-starred 
destiny,  is  to-day  a miniature  Chicago,  full  of  energy,  alive  with 
industry,  and  having  over  half  a hundred  thousand  inhabitants. 
Memphis,  which  then  existed  only  in  the  possibilities  of  the  glori- 
ous future,  has  planted  upon  the  Chickasaw  Bluffs  fifty  thousand 
people,  and  New  Orleans,  the  paradise  of  the  keelboatman,  with  its 
quaint  Creoles  and  its  haughty  Spaniards,  has,  since  it  was  gathered 
under  4 ‘the  protecting  wings  of  the  American  eagle,”  become  a 
port,  at  whose  crescented  wharves  ride  hundreds  of  steamers,  float- 
ing the  flags  of  every  nation,  and  enriching  the  land  with  the  bless- 
ings of  commerce.  Galveston,  the  site  of  the  capitol  of  the  Bara- 
tarian  pirate,  Lafitte,  has  from  a single  bastioned  fort,  with  its 
collection  of  rude  huts,  become  a beautiful  city,  along  whose  glori- 
ous stretch  of  beach  dash  hosts  of  carriages  freighted  with  beauty, 
and  whose  vessels  reach  every  pert  of  the  civilized  world  and  pour 
into  her  lap  the  treasures  of  wealth  and  art. 

American  tools  cut  down  the  rich  timbers  of  the  South  American 
forests;  American  implements  till  the  fertile  fields  of  sunny  France; 
American  pork  feeds  the  toilers  of  the  German  Vaterland;  Amer- 
ican beef  sustains  the  brawny  sons  of  Old  England,  thus  bringing  to 
pass  the  proverb  of  “carrying  coals  to  New  Castle.”  American 
locomotives  pull  the  trains  of  Australia;  American  dentists  pull  and 
plug  the  teeth  of  royalty.  On  every  hand  the  inventive  genius  of 


THE  INDIANS  AND  THEIR  BRITISH  ALLIES. 


65 


the  American  is  exhibited,  and  the  first  century  of  American  inde- 
pendence has  made  our  country  one  of  the  grandest  on  the  globe,  and 
with  possibilities  far  beyond  those  of  combined  insular  and  conti- 
nental Europe.  Another  hundred  years  will  have  given  us  nearly  if 
not  quite  two  hundred  millions  of  people,  and  placed  American  art, 
arms  and  commerce  in  the-  van  of  the  world. 

Already  the  enormous  public  debt,  counting  into  the  billions,  is 
being  rapidly  extinguished,  while  that  of  every  other  nation  of  the 
world  increases.  While  kingdoms  and  empires  seek  for  new  modes 
of  increasing  their  revenues,  and  their  tax-burdened  people  turn  to 
riot  and  nihilism,  as  a remedy  for  distress  and  starvation,  we 
ponder  on  what  few  articles  should  still  be  subject  to  revenue  bur- 
dens, so  as  to  relieve  the  too  great  accumulation  of  specie  in  the 
governmental  vaults — and  all  this  in  despite  of  the  fact  that  half  the 
nations  of  Europe  export  to  our  shores,  from  the  tumbling  rookeries 
of  their  cities’  slums,  their  thieves,  paupers,  vagrants  and  other 
non-producers.  Such  capacities  for  production  and  such  material 
wealth  the  world  has  never  before  seen. 

The  gilded  empires  of  Persia,  Pome  and  Greece,  in  their  most 
glorious  eras,  when  enriched  with  the  spoils  of  all  the  then  known 
world,  did  not  begin  to  compete  with  the  young  Republic  of  the 
New  World,  whose  shores  are  laved  by  the  two  broad  oceans,  and 
whose  soil  produces  every  known  form  of  fruit  and  grain  and  staple, 
from  those  of  the  fiery  tropics  to  those  of  Northern  Europe.  Her 
lakes  are  inland  seas,  her  rivers  giant  arteries,  whose  throbs  bear 
onward  to  the  outer  oceans  the  grain  and  meat  to  feed  the  world, 
and  the  fabrics  with  which  to  clothe  them.  Kentucky  furnishes 
her  graded  blue  grass  horses  to  mount  the  cavalry  of  England  and 
France;  Missouri  sends  them  her  corn-fed  mules  to  haul  their  heavy 
artillery,  and  Texas,  the  cattle  to  supply  their  commissariat.  The 
American  hog  is  rapidly  replacing  the  German  porker,  in  spite  of 
the  frenzied  efforts  of  Bismark — the  greatest  hog  of  this  or  any  other 
time — to  exclude  him. 

In  1783  our  trade  was  nothing,  our  exports  nothing,  our  inven- 
tions nothing.  Let  us  see  what  they  are  in  1883.  By  the  census 
of  1880  we  find  that  our  yearly  imports  then  amounted  to  a value  of 
seven  hundred  and  fifty-three  millions,  two  hundred  and  forty  thou- 
sand, one  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars.  Our  exports  for  that 
year,  made  up  the  enormous  sum  of  nine  hundred  and  twenty-one 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


6(> 

millions,  seven  hundred  and  eighty-four  thousand,  one  hundred  and 
ninety-three  dollars.  Our  revenues,  amounting  to  four  hundred 
and  eighty-six  millions,  nine  hundred  and  forty-nine  thousand,  four 
hundred  and  twenty-three  dollars  yearly,  were  rapidly  reducing  our 
public  debt,  which  in  that  year  amounted  to  two  billions,  one 
hundred  and  twenty  millions,  four  hundred  and  fifteen  thousand, 
three  hundred  and  seventy  dollars.  Six  hundred  millions  of  the 
debt  had  been  extinguished  in  a few  years. 

The  civil  war  had  cost  the  country  six  billions,  five  hundred 
millions  of  dollars,  and  yet  she  was  then  and  is  now  the  most  pros- 
perous nation  that  the  wide  circling  sun,  in  all  his  course,  shines 
upon;  increasing  yearly  in  wealth,  inventions,  grandeur  and  popu- 
lation. The  feeble  people  of  1780,  struggling  under  difficulties,  and 
jeered  at  by  the  nations  of  the  globe,  in  1880  possessed  a popula- 
tion of  fifty  millions,  one  hundred  and  fifty -five  thousand,  seven 
hundred  and  eighty-three,  and  her  commercial  importance  was  second 
only  to  that  of  combined  Europe.  This  is,  in  brief,  the  advance 
made  by  the  United  States  in  a period  of  less  than  one  hundred 
years; — what  prophet  will  dare  predict  the  limits  of  her  greatness 
in  another  century?  With  a population  then  of  two  hundred  mill- 
ions of  people  and  bounded  only,  if  she  choose,  by  the  limits  of  the 
North  American  continent,  the  traditional  power  and  grandeur  of 
ancient  Greece  and  Rome  will  fade  into  insignificance,  and  there  are 
those  alive  to-day,  who  will  live  to  see  this  nation  the  arbiter  of  the 
worlds’  destinies. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


THE  TYPICAL  PIONEER HIS  CHARACTER HIS  DEFENSIVE  WARFARE “THIS 

WAS  A MAN” DATE  OF  BIRTH ANCESTRY HIS  LOVE  OF  ADVENTURE 

HIS  COURAGE TWO  ANECDOTES THE  YOUNG  HERMIT THE  PAN- 
THER  HIS  EDUCATION THE  LORE  OF  THE  HUNTER UNKNOWN 

HEROES WOODCRAFT MOVES  TO  NORTH  CAROLINA MARRIES  RE- 
BECCA BRYAN HIS  CHILDREN THEIR  FATES HUNTING  EXCUR- 
SIONS   FINDLEY  THE  DISCOVERER  OF  KENTUCKY BOONE  GOES  TO  KEN- 
TUCKY  A GLORIOUS  SIGHT DEER  AND  BUFFALO FINDLEY’S  QUES- 
TION  CAPTURE  OF  BOONE  AND  STUART THEIR  ESCAPE FATE  OF 

THEIR  COMRADES ARRIVAL  OF  BOONE’S  BROTHER STUART  KILLED  AND 

SCALPED HORRIBLE  DEATH  OF  A COMRADE BOONE’S  BROTHER  DE- 
PARTS FOR  NORTH  CAROLINA BOONE  ALONE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Daniel  Boone  probably  better  represents  the  typical  pioneer  of  his 
day,  the  era  of  colonization,  than  any  of  his  followers  and  compan- 
ions. His  character  was  not  that  of  a reckless  Indian  fighter,  though 
certainly  no  braver  man  ever  lived,  but  we  see  underlying  all  of  his 
actions,  the  motives  and  determination  of  the  colonist;  the  intent  to 
benefit  his  race  and,  in  fact,  humanity,  by  extending  the  limits  of 
civilization  and  wresting  from  barbarism  the  fertile  stretch  of  coun- 
try lying  between  the  Alleghany  Mountains  and  the  Ohio  River. 

Unlike  Kenton,  we  do  not  find  him  engaging  in  predatory  expe- 
ditions against  his  enemies:  nor,  like  Wetzel  and  Brady,  did  he  kill 
for  any  pleasure  of  revenge,  nor  for  the  keen  excitement  of  pursu- 
ing that  noblest  of  all  game,  as  those  men  would  have  classed  their 
fellow  men.  His  wars  were  those  of  defense  and  his  excursions 
made  to  deter  the  savage  foemen  from  invading  his  beloved  Ken- 
tucky, or  with  some  motive  equally  laudable. 

In  all  that  he  did  we  behold  no  sordidness  of  action  and  no  pan- 
dering to  private  revenges,  but  a deep,  wide  purpose,  that  had  for 
its  aim  “the  common  good  of  all  mankind.’ ’ Truly  of  him  might 
Anthony’s  oration  over  Caesar’s  body  be  pronounced: 

“ His  life  was  gentle  and  the  elements 
So  mixed  in  him  that  nature  might  stand  up 
And  say  to  all  the  world,  ‘This  was  a man.’  ” 

This  man — one  of  the  most  remarkable  of  all  who  have  figured 
in  American  history — was  born,  according  to  McClung,  who  studied 

67 


68 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


the  subjects  of  his  sketches  deeply,  in  Virginia;  other  accounts,  how- 
ever, make  Exeter  township,  Bucks  county,  Pennsylvania,  the  birth 
place  of  Boone.  The  dates  given  as  those  of  his  birth,  vary  widely. 
Peck  places  it  in  February,  1735 ; Bogart  gives  a more  specific  date, 
that  of  February  11th,  1735;  still  another  account  places  it  as  late 
as  1746,  while  the  family  record  puts  it  as  early  as  1732,  (July  14th. ) 

This  last  date  is  that  written  by  his  uncle,  James  Boone,  and  it 
would  seem  as  if  so  near  a relative  would  certainly  possess  as  accu- 
rate knowledge  on  this  subject,  as  contemporaneous  or  subsequent 
historians.  In  spite  of  all  this,  however,  most  writers  seem  inclined 
to  adhere  to  1735,  as  the  year  in  which  the  “father  of  Kentucky’  ’ 
first  saw  the  light. 


SEAT  OF  THE  BOONES  NEAR  EXETER,  ENGLAND. 


George  Boone,  the  grandfather  of  Daniel,  emigrated  from  the 
family  seat  near  Exeter,  England,  in  the  year  1717,  and  purchased 
large  tracts  of  lands  in  Maryland,  Virginia  and  Pennsylvania,  in  the 
last  of  which  he  for  a considerable  time  made  his  home.  The  father 
of  eleven  children,  of  whom  nine  were  sons,  the  names  of  only  three 
of  these  have  reached  us;  Squire,  James  and  John;  the  first  the 
father  of  the  great  pioneer 

Squire  Boone,  whose  wife  was  a Miss  Sarah  Morgan,  also  had 
eleven  children;  James,  Samuel,  Jonathan,  Daniel,  George,  Squire, 
Edward,  Sarah,  Elizabeth,  Mary  and  Hannah.  Of  the  Episcopal 
faith  in  England,  it  is  said  that  the  Boones  tacitly  accepted  the  relig- 
ion of  the  Quakers,  when  they  settled  in  Pennsylvania.  If  this  is 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


09 


so,  it  would  seem  as  if  the  peace  tenets  of  that  creed  did  not  make 
a very  strong  impression  upon  the  mind  of  Daniel. 

From  his  earliest  years  he  exhibited  a love  of  adventure,  and  a 
daring  boldness  widely  at  variance  with  the  mild  Quaker  doctrines, 
but  indicative  of  his  after  life  and  exploits.  When  still  but  a child  his 
mind  continually  exhibited  its  peculiar  bent,  not  only  in  a disregard 
for  danger,  but  also  an  unchildish  love  of  solitude,  and  his  manly 
courage  would  have  done  credit  to  the  training  of  a Spartan  youth. 

Amongst  numerous  anecdotes  told  of  young  Boone,  is  one  which, 
if  true,  plainly  shadowed  forth  his  natural  fitness  for  his  self-imposed 
task  of  colonizing  the  unbroken  wilderness  of  Kentucky.  It  is  said  that 
the  boy,  who  was  accustomed  to  roam  at  will  the  dense  forests  and 
trackless  wilds  of  Pennsylvania,  on  one  occasion  did  not  return  to 
his  home  at  night-fall,  as  had  hitherto  been  his  wont.  Knowing  his 
ability  to  take  care  of  himself,  his  parents  were  not  greatly  alarmed, 
but  the  next  day  and  the  next  night  bringing  no  news  of  him,  his 
father  and  some  of  the  neighbors  set  out  on  the  morning  of  the  third 
day,  in  quest  of  the  missing  boy. 

After  a long  and  tedious  search,  when  they  had  about  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  he  had  been  devoured  by  some  wild  beast,  or  abducted 
by  skulking  Indians,  they  beheld  a light  column  of  smoke  curling 
upward  from  the  midst  of  a forest  of  giant  trees.  Hastening 
eagerly  to  the  spot,  from  which  it  arose,  they  were  delighted  to  find 
a small,  rudely  constructed  cabin,  and  in  it— stretched  upon  the  skins 
of  the  animals  he  had  slain — lay  the  youthful  hermit.  Upon  the 
bright  coals,  glowing  in  the  fireplace,  was  broiling  a juicy  steak  of 
venison,  which  young  Boone,  evidently  thoroughly  satisfied  with  his 
solitude  and  independence,  was  contemplating  with  great  gusto. 

Another  anecdote  is  given  upon  the  authority  of  the  author  of 
“Uncle  Philip’s  Conversations.”  Boone,  who  had  become  an 
expert  rifleman,  while  scarcely  strong  enough  to  carry  that  service- 
able weapon,  was  out  late  one  evening  with  his  comrades  and  on 
returning  home  they  were  passing  through  some  heavy  timber,  when 
the  lugubrious  howl  of  a panther  was  heard  near  at  hand.  Looking 
around  and  seeing  the  savage  animal  crouching  for  its  spring,  all 
took  to  rapid  flight  except  Boone,  who,  with  nerves  strung  to  their 
highest  tension,  but  undismayed  by  the  danger,  threw  his  rifle  to 
his  shoulder  and  with  a quick,  but  unerring  aim,  fired,  the  panther 
falling  to  the  ground  dead. 

O O 


70 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Thus  early  in  life  it  seemed  natural  that  he  should  stand  between 
others  and  danger;  the  firm,  sure  bulwark  appointed  by  the  fate, 
that  made  him  the  leader  and  protector  of  others  less  hardy  or 
heroic  than  himself.  The  boy  hermit  of  the  Pennsylvania  woods 
appears  but  the  prototype  of  the  man,  who  held  for  months  his 
advanced  post  in  the  wilderness  of  Kentucky  unaided  and  alone, 
and  faithful  as  a Roman  sentinel,  kept  his  solitary  vigil  there. 

The  education  of  Daniel  Boone  was  necessarily  limited  and  was 
obtained  from  a wandering  Irish  school-master,  while  his  father 
was  living  upon  the  Schuylkill  river.  He  here  learned  to  read  and 
write,  after  a fashion,  and  probably  to  cipher  through  the  first  four 
rules  of  arithmetic. 

This  limited  schooling  was  sufficient  for  this  man,  who  was  des- 
tined to  use  a rifle  oftener  than  a pen,  and  whose  books  were  the 
broad  pages  of  nature,  whereon  she  had  written  a lore  patent  only  to 
the  woodsman  and  the  hunter;  books  whose  illustrations  were  the 
bright,  beautiful  rivers  flashing  in  the  sun,  as  they  rolled  resistless 
to  the  sea;  the  grand  forests  of  titanic  trees,  whose  tops  seemed 
toying  with  the  clouds  above  them;  and  emerald  valleys,  whose  glo- 
rious beauty  seemed  almost  as  of  paradise,  and  whose  fertility  sup- 
plied pasturage  for  the  countless  herds  of  buffalo  and  of  deer,  that 
roamed  at  will  over  their  swelling  bosoms. 

Not  only  did  he  read  in  nature’s  glorious  volume  these  pastoral 
idyls  of  grazing  herds  and  babbling  brooks,  but  sterner  epics  and 
most  diresome  tragedies,  too,  in  hues  of  blood  lay  hidden  there.  The 
graves  of  unsung  heroes,  who  had  fallen  in  glorious,  but  unnoted 
combat,  dotted  the  beautiful  pictures,  and  gruesome  murder 
and  vile  assassination  crept  cowering  in  and  out  between  the  noble 
trees,  shunning  the  day,  as  foul  birds  of  the  night.  A knowledge 
as  of  the  gods  did  he  con  from  these  wide  open  pages : caution, 
temperance,  self-reliance,  courage,  patience. 

The  bended  twig  unnoted  might  bring  him  face  to  face  with 
imminent  peril;  the  down-crushed  blades  of  grass,  if  passed 
unheeded,  might  lead  swiftly  up  to  crouching  murder,  or  fearful 
ambuscade.  Nothing  was  so  grand,  that  it  baffled  the  view  of  such  a 
man;  nothing  so  small,  that  it  escaped  his  vision.  Such  was  the 
education  of  the  pioneer,  caught  from  the  teeming  pages  of  nature’s 
mystic  volume,  revised  by  the  plastic  hand  of  the  “Ancient  of 
Days.” 


71 


DANIEL  BOONE. 

Qualified  by  liis  youth,  spent  in  hunting  and  adventure,  for  a 
manhood  of  almost  superhuman  daring,  we  find  Boone,  at  about  the 
age  of  eighteen  years,  drifting  with  the  currents  of  circumstance 
and,  as  he  himself  firmly  believed  of  fate,  to  North  Carolina,  where 
he  became  acquainted  with  the  man,  whose  glowing  descriptions  of 
the  country  West  of  the  Alleghanies  influenced  him  to  explore  that 
terra  incognito. 

In  North  Carolina  Boone  settled  with  his  father  near  Holman’s 
Ford,  on  the  Yadkin,  and  it  was  here  that  he  met,  wooed  and  mar- 
ried Miss  Rebecca  Bryan,  in  1755.  From  this  union  there  sprang 
nine  children,  James,  Israel,  Jesse,  Daniel,  Nathan,  Susan, 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


Jemima,  Lavinia  and  Rebecca.  Of  the  sons,  James  was  killed  by 
the  Indians  in  1773,  and  Israel  fell  fighting  gallantly  in  the  disas- 
trous battle  of  the  Blue  Licks,  on  the  17th  day  of  May,  1782. 
Nathan,  the  youngest  son,  held  in  1846  the  position  of  captain  in  the 
regular  army  of  the  United  States. 

According  to  the  most  reliable  accounts  it  was  about  1760  that 
Boone  began  making  his  long  excursions  toward  the  West.  An 
inscription  on  a beech  tree,  near  the  Wautega  River,  seems  to  con- 
firm 1760  as  the  true  date.  The  quaint  legend  reads  thus:  “D. 
Boon  cilled  a bar  on  tree  in  the  year  1760.”  He  was  with  Dr. 
Walker  on  his  second  trip,  in  this  year,  and  some  accounts  say  that 


72 


conquering  the  wilderness. 


he  was  with  him  on  a tour  of  exploration  in  Tennessee,  as  early  as 
1748. 

It  is  certain,  however,  that  he  first  heard  of  the  glories  of  Ken- 
tucky from  an  adventurous  hunter  named  Findley,  of  whom,  unfor- 
tunately we  know  scarcely  more  than  his  name.  Returning  from 
an  expedition  to  that  territory,  in  1767,  his  glowing  tribute  to  its 
beauties  fired  the  imagination  of  Boone,  who  determined  to  return 
with  Findley,  on  his  next  visit.  In  was  not,  however,  until  1769 
that  Boone  was  able  to  set  out,  in  company  with  Findley,  John 
Stuart,  Joseph  Holden,  James  Moncey  and  William  Cool,  on  his 
visit  to  the  rich  territory,  where  he  was  destined  to  found  a State. 

On  the  7th  day  of  June,  1769,  this  small  band  of  daring  adventur- 
ers toiled  slowly  up  one  of  the  steep  eminences  that  rise  above  the 
waters  of  Red  River,  a tributary  of  the  Kentucky.  Worn  down  by 
the  privations,  toil  and  dangers  of  their  long  and  tedious  journey, 
their  clothes  torn  to  rags  and  their  moccasins  almost  in  shreds,  all 
of  their  hardships  were  forgotten  in  the  view  that  met  their  eyes 
on  reaching  the  summit. 

Spread  out  before  them,  and  bathed  in  the  brilliant  sunlight  of 
the  early  summer  lay  the  broad,  fertile  valleys,  the  dense  forests 
and  the  clear  winding  rivers  of  Kentucky.  Drinking  in  the  beauties 
of  the  glorious  scene,  with  a joy  too  deep  for  words,  the  soul  of 
each  one  was  filled  with  the  determination  to  give  to  his  race,  in 
spite  of  danger  and  of  death,  this  glorious  heritage. 

Human  eye  had  never  beheld  a more  beautiful  panorama,  than 
these  dense  forests,  crystal  rivers  and  beauteous  valleys,  over  whose 
broad  bosoms  they  could  behold  the  deer  and  buffalo  in  immense 
herds,  feeding  and  roaming  at  will.  It  was  a land  for  which,  hero- 
like, they  were  willing  to  lay  down  their  lives.  Said  Boone  after- 
wards, in  speaking  of  this  first  view:  “It  was  the  fairest  sight  that 
my  eyes  have  ever  seen  and  I determined  that,  with  the  aid  of 
the  Almighty,  I would  colonize  it  at  the  risk  of  my  life.” 

Findley  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence.  Turning  to  Boone,  he 
asked:  “Did  I tell  you  the  truth  about  this  country?”  Boone 
laughingly  answered  him:  “No,  not  the  half  of  it ! ” Said  Stuart, 
how  prophetically  he  did  not  then  know ; “It  is  a country  I'd  be 
willing  to  shed  the  last  drop  of  my  blood  for.” 

On  this  stream,  Red  River,  they  built  a cabin,  and  seem  to  have 
made  no  long  excursions  for  some  time.  On  the  22d  of  Decem- 
ber, however,  Boone  and  Stuart  set  out  on  a long  hunt,  and  as  they 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


73 


had,  up  to  this  time,  seen  no  traces  of  Indians,  were  proceeding 
carelessly  along  through  a dense  thicket,  when  they  were  suddenly 
seized  by  skulking  savages,  before  they  could  attempt  a resistance. 
Boone,  seeing  how  useless  it  would  be  to  struggle,  calmly  accepted 
his  fate  and  Stuart  followed  his  example. 

The  Indians’  vigilance  gradually  relaxed,  as  they  found  that  their 
captives  seemed  reconciled  to  their  condition,  and  about  midnight 
of  the  seventh  day  of  their  captivity,  Boone,  seeing  that  the  Indians 
were  all  sleeping  soundly,  awoke  Stuart,  and  they  succeeded  in  get- 
ting off,  without  disturbing  the  slumbers  of  the  savages. 

The  next  day  they  reached  their  cabin,  only  to  find  it  plundered 
and  deserted.  To  the  day  of  his  death  Boone  never  found  out  what 


MRS.  BOONE — FROM  A PAINTING  BY  BEALE,  NOW  IN  POSSESSION  OF 
COL.  BOONE,  OF  COLORADO. 

had  become  of  his  companions.  One  of  his  surmises,  that  thev 
might  have  determined  to  return  to  the  settlements  in  North  Caro- 
lina, is  very  improbable ; for  had  they  done  so,  a man  so  remarkable 
as  Findley  must  have  been,  could  not  have  escaped  observation* 
There  is  little  doubt  but  that  they  were  either  killed,  or  captured 
and  taken  to  the  Indian  villages  for  torture. 

Seeing  the  necessity  for  caution,  Boone  and  Stuart  left  the  cabin 
and  camped  in  the  neighboring  timber.  Here  they  were  startled 
one  day  by  the  sight  of  two  men  evidently  following  them.  Getting 
behind  trees  they  called  out:  “Who  are  you?”  The  answer, 
“White  men  and  friends”  was  a welcome  one,  and  on  a nearer 


74 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


approach,  Boone  was  delighted  to  find  that  one  of  them  was  his 
brother,  Squire.  The  name  of  the  other  man  has  not  reached  us. 

The  month  in  which  Squire  Boone  and  his  companion  joined  them 
was  June,  1770.  Shortly  after  this  happy  meeting,  Boone  and 
Stuart  were  pursued  by  the  Indians,  while  out  hunting,  and  Stuart 
was  shot  and  scalped,  Boone  luckily  escaping.  It  was  not  long 
before  another  misfortune  overtook  them:  ths  man  who  had  accom- 
panied Squire  Boone  from  North  Carolina,  was  overtaken  by  night, 
far  from  the  camp,  and  was  devoured  by  wolves.  The  Boones  were 
now  alone  in  the  wilderness,  and  to  men  of  less  hardy  nerve,  their 
situation  would  have  been  appalling,  especially  as  their  stock  of 
ammunition  was  almost  exhausted. 

In  this  exigency  it  was  determined  that  Squire  should  go  back  to 
the  settlements  to  replenish  their  stock,  while  Daniel  remained  in  Ken- 
tucky. It  was  an  emergency  requiring  iron  nerve  and  undaunted 
courage  in  both,  for  the  long  and  tiresome  trip  was  beset  with  dan- 
gers innumerable,  while  probably  but  one  man  in  all  the  world — and 
that  one  Daniel  Boone — possessed  the  resolution  to  hold  his  solitary 
post  in  the  wilderness,  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  savage  enemies, 
both  brute  and  human. 

For  this  task — of  which  history  recounts  no  parallel — Boone  was 
peculiarly  fitted.  His  frame  was  compact  and  strongly  built,  more 
for  strength  and  endurance,  than  for  activity,  and  his  mind  was  one 
of  those  rarely  balanced  ones,  which  success  does  not  raise,  nor 
defeat  lower,  from  its  admirable  equipoise.  Cool  and  phlegmatic, 
rather  than  nervous  and  sanguine,  at  no  time  can  it  be  truly  said 
that  Boone  acted  in  a rash  or  hasty  manner.  Neither  was  he,  as 
many  have  supposed,  a Timon-like  hater  of  his  kind,  but  his  nature 
was  social  and  affectionate,  though  not  demonstrative. 


CHAPTER  V. 


THE  PICKET-GUARD  OF  CIVILIZATION. 


A LIFE  AT  STAKE BOONE’S  STRATAGEMS MIDNIGHT  ATTACKS RETURN  OF 

SQUIRE  BOONE THE  BROTHERS  EXPLORE  KENTUCKY HARDSHIPS  EN- 
DURED BY  BOONE RETURN  TO  NORTH  CAROLINA STARTS  TO  COLONIZE 

KENTUCKY ATTACKED  BY  INDIANS DEATH  OF  BOONE’S  SON INDIANS 

REPULSED RETREAT  TO  CLINCH  RIVER —BOONE  EMPLOYED  BY  GOVER- 
NOR DUNMORE IS  GIVEN  A CAPTAIN’S  COMMISSION HENDERSON’S  PUR- 
CHASE  INDIAN  TREATIES BOONE  CUTS  A ROAD  TO  THE  KENTUCKY 

RIVER TWICE  ATTACKED  BY  INDIANS BOONSBOROUGH  BUILT THE 

“STATE  OF  TRANSYLVANIA” JAMES  HARROD HIS  SETTLEMENT THE 

TERRITORIAL  LEGISLATION BOONE’S  FAMILY  GO  TO  KENTUCKY STORMY 

TIMES BOONE’S  DAUGHTER  CAPTURED RESCUE M’CLUNG’S  COM- 
MENTS  REINFORCEMENTS  ARRIVE INDIAN  ATTACKS LOGAN’S  FORT 

CAPTURE  OF  BOONE ADOPTED  BY  INDIANS TAKEN  TO  DETROIT 

BRITISH  EFFORT  TO  PURCHASE TAKEN  BACK  TO  CHILLICOTHE PREP- 
ARATIONS FOR  WAR BOONE’S  ESCAPE A WONDERFUL  JOURNEY AN 

UNPREPARED  POST FUTILE  ASSAULTS AN  INCURSION  INTO  THE  INDIAN 

COUNTRY WAR  PARTY  DEFEATED RETURN  TO  BOONSBOROUGH SAV- 
AGES IN  FORCE THE  SIEGE. 


Knowing  that  he  must  use  extreme  caution,  if  he  would  escape 
capture  or  death,  Boone  now  availed  himself  of  all  the  artifices  of 
his  ready  wit  and  active  mind  to  baffle  his  wily  foes.  The  pro- 
longed hooting  of  owls,  where  his  woodcraft  told  him  that  no  owls 
were,  caused  many  a midnight  retreat  to  safer  quarters.  Often,  in 
the  plaintive  howling  of  the  wolves,  he  detected  a human  signifi- 
cance, and  the  warning  that  his  keen  ear  had  gathered  was  not  un- 
heeded. Rarely  sleeping  twice  in  the  same  camps,  he  often  found 
around  them,  on  his  returns,  the  signs  of  prowling  enemies.  Not 
only  did  the  savages  cause  him  uneasiness,  but  the  immense  packs 
of  gaunt  and  famished  wolves  were  a danger  almost  as  great. 

At  no  time,  however,  did  craven  fear  enter  his  heart,  or  the 
thought  of  deserting  his  post  cross  his  mind.  Steadfast  amidst  all 
dangers,  this  picket-guard  of  civilization  stood  firm  to  his  self- 
imposed  duty,  as  the  grenadiers  of  Napoleon’s  old  guard,  or  the 
legionaries  of  ancient  Rome.  His  equally  brave  brother  returned 
to  him  on  the  27th  day  of  July,  1770,  and  the  meeting  was  no 
doubt  an  affecting  one.  Together  the  brothers  now  pushed  their 
explorations  over  every  part  of  the  State,  making  their  excursions 
continually  until  some  time  in  March,  1771,  when  they  returned  to 
North  Carolina.  Words  fail  to  express  their  devoted  courage,  or 

75 


76 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


the  countless  perils  they  encountered.  In  the  three  years  spent  in 
the  wilderness,  Boone  never  tasted  bread  nor  salt,  nor  did  he  in  all 
that  time  see  the  face  of  a single  white  man,  save  the  companions 
mentioned. 

On  the  25th  day  of  September,  1771,  having  disposed  of  his 
property,  he  set  out  with  his  family  and  goods  to  return  to  Ken- 
tucky, confident  of  his  ability  to  effect  a permanent  settlement 


FINDLEY,  THE  DISCOVERER  OF  KENTUCKY. 


there.  On  his  way  he  was  joined  by  five  other  families  and  forty 
unmarried  men.  His  colonization  was  destined,  however,  to  be 
deferred;  for  being  attacked  by  the  Indians,  when  nearing  the 
Cumberland  Mountains,  Boone’s  oldest  son,  James,  and  five  other 
men  were  killed  and  one  man  wounded.  Although  they  easily  beat 
off  the  attacking  Indians,  with  severe  loss,  yet  the  women — terri- 
fied by  this  ill  omen  of  savage  slaughter  just  at  the  threshold  of 


THE  TICKET-GUARD  OF  CIVILIZATION. 


77 


their  entrance  into  the  wilderness — persuaded  a retreat  to  the  Clinch 
River  settlements,  distant  some  forty  miles. 

Here  Boone  remained  until  1774,  engaged,  presumably,  in  farm- 
ing. In  that  year  he  was  employed  at  the  request  of  Governor 
Dunmore,  of  Virginia,  to  conduct  a party  of  surveyors  back  from 
the  Falls  of  the* Ohio,  whither  they  had  been  sent  some  time  before. 
With  his  characteristic  modesty  Boone  merely  mentions  this  journey, 
without  giving  any  details  of  the  part  he  took  in  it.  That  it  was 
satisfactory  to  Dunmore,  however,  is  proved  by  his  continuing  to 
employ  Boone  in  other  affairs. 

In  1775  we  find  him  engaged  in  treating  with  the  Cherokees,  in 
behalf  of  Henderson,  for  the  purchase  of  all  the  country  south  of 
the  Kentucky  River ; his  time  prior  to  this  treaty  having  been  occu- 
pied by  his  supervision  of  the  garrisons  of  three  posts,  confided  to 
his  charge  by  Dunmore,  during  his  campaigns  against  the  Shawnese 
Indians.  With  this  command  Boone  also  received  a captain’s  com- 
mission. Although  we  find  no  account  of  his  presence  at  the  battle 
of  Point  Pleasant,  yet  it  is  almost  certain  that  he  participated  in 
that  furious  conflict. 

After  this  battle,  the  severest  ever  fought  by  the  Indians  in  Vir- 
ginia, the  savages  retreated  to  their  villages  in  Ohio,  sued  for  peace, 
and  relinquished  all  their  right  to  Kentucky.  The  Cherokees  having 
sold  their  title  to  Henderson,  and  the  Six  Nations  having  relinquished 
their’s,  in  their  treaty  at  Fort  Stanwix,  in  1768,  it  will  be  seen,  as 
we  have  before  stated,  that  Boone’s  settlement  was  no  trespass  upon 
Indian  property,  their  titles  having  been  effectually  quieted  by  these 
sales  and  treaties. 

The  Henderson  purchase  being  satisfactorily  completed  and  duly 
ratified,  on  the  17th  day  of  March,  1775,  Boone  led  a small  body  of 
men  to  cut  a road  through  the  wilderness,  from  the  Holston  to  the 
Kentucky  River.  In  speaking  of  this  task  Boone  says  that  they 
proceeded  rapidly  with  their  work  until  the  20th  day  of  March,  when 
they  were  fired  upon  by  skulking  Indians  and  two  of  their  number 
killed  and  two  wounded. 

Beating  the  Indians  off,  they  were  again  fired  upon,  three  days 
later,  and  had  two  more  men  killed  and  three  wounded.  After  this 
they  were  unmolested,  and  reaching  the  Kentucky  River,  on  the  5th 
of  April,  they  began  the  erection  of  a fort,  ( Boonsborough, ) “ at  a 
salt  lick,  about  sixty  yards  from  the  stream,  on  the  south  side,” 


78 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS, 


On  the  9th  of  April  they  had  another  man  killed,  but  completed  the 
fort  on  the  14th  day  of  June,  without  further  molestation. 

In  his  report  to  Colonel  Henderson,  Boone,  writing  of  the  attacks 
of  the  Indians,  quaintly  speaks  of  “the  time  to  flusterate  their 
intentions,”  but  the  report  is  concise  and  sensible.  The  Henderson, 
or,  as  it  was  then  known,  the  Transylvania,  Company,  took  possession 
of  its  lands  on  the  20th  of  April,  possession  being  delivered  by  an 
agent  appointed  by  the  Indians  for  that  purpose.  The  States  of 
Virginia,  North  Carolina,  and  Tennessee  soon  after  declared  this 
purchase  illegal,  but  granted  large  tracts  of  land  in  lieu  of  it  and 
thus  was  the  scheme  of  founding  the  “State  of  Transylvania” 
defeated.  Henderson,  a remarkable  man,  died  January  30th,  1785, 
greatly  regretted  by  all. 

Early  as  was  the  erection  of  Boonsborough,  it  is  but  just  to  James 
Harrod,  who  descended  the  Ohio  in  1774,  with  a party  of  Virgin- 
ians, to  say  that  Gallagher  gives 
to  him  the  credit  of  erecting 
the  first  log  cabin  in  the  interior 
of  Kentucky,  in  the  spring,  or 
early  summer,  of  1774.  Me- 
Clung  says  that  Harrod  erected 
the  first  house  in  the  interior  of 
Kentucky,  but  Boone  the  first 
cabin  upon  its  borders. 

The  seeming  discrepancy  in 
the  dates  of  the  founding  of 
Harrodsburg  and  Boonsborough 

THE  OLD  FORT  AT  BOONSBOROUGH.  ° ° 

which  appears  to  have  perplexed 
so  many,  is  easily  explained.  Though  Harrod  started  his  settlement 
in  1774,  yet  it  was  soon  abandoned,  owing  to  Dunmore’s  war,  in 
which  he  took  part,  and  in  1775  Boone  and  Harrod  returned  to  Ken- 
tucky from  different  directions,  but  almost  simultaneously.  The 
first  occupation  by  Harrod,  it  will  be  seen,  was  not  permanent,  and 
he  probably  left  Kentucky  about  the  time,  if  not  sooner,  of  Boone’s 
return  from  the  Falls  of  the  Ohio  with  Dunmore’s  surveyors. 

In  this  year,  1775,  two  important  events  occurred — the  gathering 
of  a territorial  legislature,  in  which,  amongst  others,  laws  for  the 
preservation  of  the  game  and  improving  the  breed  of  horses  clearly 
show  that  the  imprint  of  those  hardy  pioneers  has  never  been  effaced 


THE  PICKET-GUARD  OF  CIVILIZATION. 


79 


from  their  descendants.  The  other  event  was  Boone’s  trip  to  Clinch 
River  for  his  family,  and  his  return,  accompanied  by  them  and  other 
families  with  their  followers. 

These  numbered  twenty-six  men,  four  women  and  four  or  five 
half-grown  children.  Some  of  these  went  to  Harrodsburg,  but 
most  of  them  to  Boonsborough,  and  it  is  recorded  that  “Mrs. 
Boone  and  daughter  were  the  first  of  their  sex  and  color  who  ever 
stood  upon  the  banks  of  the  Kentucky  River.”  This  event  occurred 
in  September,  1775. 

The  closing  months  of  this  year  were  peaceful,  the  Indians  had 
disappeared  and  the  population  rapidly  increased.  This  inaction  on 
the  part  of  the  Indians,  however,  was  . merely  the  calm  that  precedes 
the  storm,  and  early  in  1776  the  war  cloud,  that  had  been  gathering 
unseen,  burst  in  fury  upon  the  infant  colony,  and  no  one  was  safe 
from  the  murderous  bands  of  the  savages,  except  within  the  stock- 
aded bounds  of  the  forts.  They  even  lurked  under  the  very 
shadows  of  the  military  posts,  as  the  following  event  shows. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  14th  day  of  July,  of  this  year, 
Betsy  and  Frances  Callaway  and  Jemima  Boone  thoughtlessly 
crossed  the  river  in  a canoe  to  a point  just  opposite  the  fort,  and 
the  three  girls  w7ere  seized  by  five  almost  naked  Indians,  fully 
armed  and  hideously  painted,  who  were  doubtless  waiting  for  a 
chance  to  shoot  or  capture  some  of  the  garrison.  Boone  and  Calla- 
way were  both  absent,  and  the  rest,  fearing  a heavy  force  of  Indians 
on  the  other  side,  did  not  dare  to  swim  across  to  attempt  the  rescue. 
Boone  and  Callaway  returned  that  night,  and  the  next  morning  at 
daylight  Boone,  with  eight  men,  was  on  the  trail. 

The  start  the  savages  had  got  was  a great  advantage,  and  after 
going  a short  way,  they  had  effaced  their  trail  by  wading  a long 
distance  in  a stream,  but  the  woodcraft  of  Boone  easily  divined 
their  course,  and  pushing  on  rapidly  for  thirty  miles,  he  made  a 
turn  to  cross  their  trace,  and  luckily  found  it  in  a buffalo  path. 
Following  this  for  ten  miles,  the  infuriated  father  came  upon  the 
Indians  just  as  they  were  kindling  a fire. 

In  order  to  save  the  prisoners  from  the  tomahawk,  it  had  been 
agreed  by  the  white  men,  that  on  sighting  their  enemies,  they  should 
first  fire  upon  them  and  then  by  a swift  charge  give  them  no  time  to 
kill  the  girls.  This  plan  was  carried  out  with  complete  success. 
Two  of  the  Indians  were  killed  and  two  wounded,  but  the  latter 


80 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


CAPTURE  OF  JEMIMA  BOONE  AND  BETSY  AND  FRANCES  CALLAWAY. 


niL  PICKET-GUARD  OF  CIVILIZATION. 


81 


escaped  with  the  unwounded  one,  and  without  other  arms  or  ammuni- 
tion than  a single  gun.  Of  this  event  Boone  merely  gives  the  dry 
details,  and  McClung  says:  “We  know  nothing  of  the  conduct  of 
the  Indians  to  their  captives,  or  of  the  situation  of  the  young  ladies 
during  the  short  engagement,  and  cannot  venture  to  fill  up  the  outline 
from  imagination . ’ ’ 

If  any  concerted  blow  had  been  intended  by  the  Indians,  it  was 
deferred,  owing  to  the  vigilance  caused  by  the  incident  just  related, 
and  the  savages  confined  themselves  to  a desultory  warfare,  with  no 
important  results.  An  occasional  immigrant  was  added  to  the  set- 
tlements until  July  25th,  1777,  when  forty-five  men  arrived  at  Boons- 
borough  from  North  Carolina.  They  were  a most  welcome  addition 
to  that  post,  which  on  the  15th  of  the  preceding  April  had  been 
attacked  by  one  hundred  Indians,  though  with  trifling  effect,  as 
they  succeeded  in  killing  but  one  man  and  wounding  four  others, 
when  they  retreated  with  much  greater  loss  to  themselves. 

Attacking  the  fort  again  on  the  4th  day  of  July,  with  their  num- 
bers increased  to  two  hundred,  they  kept  up  the  siege  vigorously  for 
two  days  and  nights,  and  again  retreated  after  suffering  severely,  and 
made  a desperate  attack  on  Logan’s  Fort,  held  by  only  fifteen  men. 
The  defense  was  no  less  obstinate  than  the  attack,  but  would  have 
proved  futile  had  it  not  been  for  the  arrival,  from  Virginia,  of  Col. 
Bowman,  with  one  hundred  men.  After  this  last  siege,  Boonsbor- 
ough  enjoyed  a season  of  repose,  but  its  indefatigable  enemies  were 
only  giving  it  a respite. 

In  January,  1778,  Boone,  with  thirty  men,  went  to  the  Blue  Licks 
to  make  salt  for  the  stations,  and  on  the  7th  day  of  February,  while 
out  hunting,  suddenly  came  across  a war  party  of  one  hundred  and 
two  Indians,  on  the  way  to  Boonsborough.  The  Indians  sprang  for- 
ward in  instant  pursuit  and  the  grand  old  pioneer,  now  over  fifty 
years  of  age,  soon  realized  that  he  was  no  match  for  the  fleet-footed 
young  men  of  the  enemy,  who  pursued  him,  and  with  the  equanim- 
ity that  in  the  most  trying  circumstances  never  deserted  him — he 
turned  and  awaited  their  approach. 

Escorted  by  the  savages  to  the  Licks,  he  is  said  to  have  advised 
the  surrender  of  his  comrades,  they  having  been  promised  good 
treatment.  In  this  he  wras  only  acting  on  his  knowledge  of  Indian 
character,  for  he  felt  certain  that  they  would  immediately  give  over 
their  attack  on  Boonsborough  and  return  to  their  villages,  satisfied 


82 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


with  these  prisoners.  How  fully  he  was  justified  after-events  go  to 
prove. 

Admiring  greatly  the  noble  courage  and  fortitude  of  their  pris- 
oner, the  Indians  not  only  spared  Boone,  but  soon  adopted  him  into 
one  of  their  families.  In  his  dealings  with  the  savages,  he  was 
careful  not  to  excel  them  in  their  favorite  sports  of  hunting  and 
marksmanship,  and  this  conduct  was  no  doubt  due  as  much  to  his 
kindness  of  heart  as  to  his  well-judged  diplomacy. 

On  the  10th  of  May,  1778,  Boone  was  taken  by  his  captors  to 
Detroit,  and  here  a ransom  of  £100  was  offered  by  Gov.  Hamilton, 
who  wras  familiar  with  the  heroic  old  man’s  life  and  adventures. 
Refusing  what  to  them  was  a princely  offer,  Boone  was  conducted 
back  to  their  town,  Chillicothe.  On  his  return  from  Detroit,  he 
found  the  Indian  village  in  a blaze  of  excitement,  a war  party  num- 
bering, according  to  McClung,  a hundred  and  fifty  picked  warriors 
from  various  tribes,  painted  and  armed  for  the  war-path,  being  assem- 
bled there. 

The  fever  of  anxiety  to  return  to  his  family — from  whom  he  had 
now  been  absent  four  months — but  which  had  been  stren- 
uously concealed  by  him,  was  now  redoubled  and  he  resolved 
to  make  his  escape  or  die  in  the  attempt.  Concealing  a small  quan- 
tity of  food  upon  his  person,  he  started  out  before  daylight,  on  the 
morning  of  the  16th  of  June,  to  hunt  game,  as  the  Indians  had  for 
some  time  permitted  him  to  do — so  well  had  he  counterfeited  con- 
tent. 

Once  beyond  the  limits  of  the  village,  he  took  a straight  course 
for  Boonsborough,  distant  more  than  a hundred  and  sixty  miles,  and 
so  swift  was  his  march  through  the  tangled  forests  and  almost  im- 

o o 

passable  swamps,  that  he  performed  his  journey  in  four  days,  hav- 
ing eaten  but  a single  meal  in  all  that  time ; his  anxiety  not  permit- 
ting him  to  stop  long  enough  to  kill  and  cook  game. 

Had  one  risen  from  the  dead,  before  the  walls  of  the  garrison, 
they  could  not  have  been  more  astonished.  Every  one  had  sup- 
posed him  a victim  to  savage  cruelty,  and  his  wife  was  so  well  con- 
vinced of  the  fact,  that  she  had  sold  off  her  property,  gathered  her 
family  and  returned  to  her  paternal  home  in  North  Carolina.  The 
condition  of  the  fortifications,  upon  Boone’s  return,  showed  what 
would  have  been  the  result  of  any  other  course  than  Boone’s  action 
in  surrendering  his  companions  at  the  Licks. 


THE  PICKET-GUARD  OF  CIVILIZATION . 


83 


The  men,  destitute  of  a leader,  would  have  fled  after  a useless 
fight,  and  pursued  by  their  greatly  superior  enemy,  if  any  escaped 
to  the  fort,  they  would  have  entered  simultaneously  with  the  sav- 
ages, and  a terrible  massacre  would  have  been  the  result.  His  wise 
decision  prevented  the  annihilation  of  the  garrison,  and  Boonsborough 
still  stood,  menacing  as  its  founder,  the  bulwark  of  the  white  set- 
tlements. The  wave  of  battle  had  repeatedly  dashed  against  it, 
yet  had  invariably  ebbed  again  from  these  rude  bastions,  whose 
uncouth  strength  seemed  a type  of  their  designer. 

Though  an  affectionate  husband  and  a loving  father,  Boone,  held 
by  the  iron  hand  of  fate  and  duty,  put  off  his  journey  to  North 
Carolina,  and  bent  his  energies  to  complete  plans  for  the  defense  of 
this  refuge  of  his  people.  Kenewing  bastion,  gate  and  palisade, 
collecting  the  scattered  garrison,  alarming  the  outlying  settlements 
and  otherwise  preparing  for  a lengthy  siege,  he  had  everything  ready 
within  ten  days. 

The  horses  and  cattle  had  been  brought  into  the  fort,  ammuni- 
tion laid  in,  and  nothing  neglected  by  the  watchful  providence  of 
the  pioneer.  Just  at  this  time  one  of  his  companions  in  captivity 
escaped,  and  brought  word  that  Boone’s  flight  had  defeated  the 
Indian  plans,  and  deferred  their  attack  for  three  weeks.  In  addition 
to  this,  the  spies  sent  out  by  the  savages  had  reported  the  activity 
and  watchfulness  of  the  whites,  upon  the  return  of  their  leader, 
and  they  were  waiting  until  their  inaction  should  disarm  suspicion. 

In  this  state  of  affairs  Boone,  desirous  of  bringing  matters  to  a 
crisis,  determined  upon  an  invasion  of  the  enemy’s  territory. 
Selecting  nineteen  men  he  set  out,  on  the  1st  of  August,  and  reach- 
ing the  vicinity  of  Paint  Creek,  an  Indian  village  on  the  Scioto, 
encountered  all  of  its  warriors,  thirty  in  number,  marching  to  join 
in  the  expedition  against  Boonsborough. 

At  the  first  fire  the  Indians  fled,  having  lost  one  man  killed  and 
two  wounded.  In  the  skirmish  none  of  Boone’s  men  were  injured. 
The  arrival  of  two  of  his  scouts  from  the  village,  with  the  report 
that  it  was  entirely  deserted,  led  Boone  to  divine  that  no  time  was 
to  be  lost,  if  he  would  reach  his  fort  before  the  enemy. 

Using  their  utmost  exertions  to  regain  their  post,  the  correctness 
of  Boone’s  intuition  was  proved  by  their  striking,  on  the  sixth 
day’s  march,  the  trail  of  the  largest  war  party  that  had  ever  been 
led  against  his  settlement.  Making  a circuit,  he  this  day  passed  the 


84 


CON QUERIN Gr  THE  WILDERNESS. 


enemy,  and  the  next  reached  the  fort,  the  Indians  appearing  before 
it  a day  later — the  8th. 

Boone  has  been  censured  for  making  this  diversion,  while  an 
attack  was  expected,  but  as  usual  his  judgment  was  not  at  fault. 
The  enemy  had  so  long  delayed  their  attack  that  there  were  mur- 
murs of  discontent  at  the  inaction,  and  the  discipline  and  vigilance  of 
the  garrison  was  becoming  lax,  since  amongst  these  independent  vol- 
unteers no  rigid  rule  could  be  maintained. 

The  value  the  Indians  placed  upon  Boone’s  courage  and  military 
skill  will  be  readily  seen  when  it  is  found  that  his  escape  caused 
them  to  delay  their  attack,  until  they  had  recruited  their  numbers 
from  one  hundred  and  fifty  to  five  hundred.  To  make  this  force 
still  more  formidable,  they  had  with  them  Canadian  officers,  skilled 
in  directing  attacks  on  fortifications. 

Parading  his  five  hundred  men,  so  as  to  give  an  exaggerated  idea 
of  their  number,  and  displaying  above  them  the  British  flag,  their 
commander,  Duquesne,  sent  an  officer  with  a flag  of  truce  to  demand 
a surrender.  To  the  alternative  of  good  treatment  if  they  complied 
with  his  demand,  or  all  the  horrors  of  savage  warfare  in  case  of 
having  to  storm  the  fort,  Boone  shrewdly  demanded  two  days  for 
consideration,  and  contrary  to  the  dictates  of  prudence  and  common 
sense,  Duquesne  granted  the  request. 

This  respite  was  employed  by  the  settlers  in  driving  their  cattle 
and  horses  into  the  fort,  strengthening  the  defences  and  collecting 
stores  and  ammunition.  At  its  conclusion,  Boone  returned  his 
answer  to  his  adversary — it  was:  “No  surrender.” 


CHAPTER  VI 


THE  LAST  SIEGE  OF  BOONSBOROUGH. 


UNWISE  COMMANDERS A SILLY  STRATAGEM ITS  FAILURE THE  INDIANS 

RUN  A TUNNEL A COUNTER -MINE DEADLY  AIM  OF  THE  KEN- 

TUCKIANS  SAVAGES  RETREAT BOONE  BRINGS  HIS  FAMILY  FROM  NORTH 

CAROLINA HINTS  OF  TROUBLE THE  FATAL  BLUE  LICKS DEATH  OF 

BOONE’S  BROTHER BOONE’S  ESCAPE A BITTER  CONFLICT GIRTY, 

ELLIOT  AND  M’KEY THEIR  PLANS HORRIBLE  BARBARITIES THE 

WHITES  OUTMANEUVERED DEATH  OF  CAPTAIN  ESTIL OUTRAGE  AND 

MURDER ATTACK  ON  BRYANT’S  STATION BESIEGED  BY  INDIANS 

HEROIC  WOMEN A SUPPLY  OF  WATER THE  SALLY REINFORCE- 
MENTS  A WONDERFUL  ESCAPE A SHARP  SKIRMISH THE  ASSAULT 

INDIANS  REPULSED GIRTY’S  ELOQUENCE REPLY  OF  THE  GALLANT 

REYNOLDS A MANGY  CUR GIRTY’S  FURY RETREAT  OF  THE  SAVAGES 

A BROAD  TRAIL WHITES  IN  PURSUIT AN  EVIL  OMEN THE 

FIERY  M’ GARRY COLONELS  TODD  AND  TRIGG MAJOR  HARLAN THE 

FIERCE  ASSAULT BOONE’S  ADVICE THE  AMBUSCADE FATAL  ERRORS 

A DIRE  DISASTER DEATH  OF  BOONE’S  SON ESCAPE  OF  THE  FATH- 
ER  AN  UNEXPECTED  HERO THE  GALLANT  REYNOLDS  AGAIN A 

NOBLE  ACTION RETREAT  FROM  THE  FIELD THE  FIERCE  PURSUIT 

REYNOLDS’  ESCAPE M’GARRY’S  ACCOUNT HIS  FIERCE  TEMPER 

LOGAN  REACHES  THE  FIELD  OF  BATTLE A TERRIBLE  SIGHT CLARKE’S 

EXPEDITION. 


Duquesne  now  tried  artifice,  and  Boone,  with  a folly  greater  even 
than  that  just  displayed  by  his  enemy,  fell  into  the  trap.  Whether 
this  foolishness  was  a lapse  from  the  usual  prudence  displayed  by 
the  pioneer,  or  whether,  as  is  more  probable,  he  was  induced  to  con- 
sent, by  the  persuasions  of  others — who  wished  to  try  all  means  in 
order  to  avoid  the  desperate  conflict,  where  fifty  men  must  encounter 
five  hundred — will  never  be  known,  but  it  is  certain  that  Boone  and 
eight  of  his  bravest  men  went  out  of  the  fort  to  a distance  of  sixty 
yards  to  treat  with  the  savages,  as  if  that  treaty  could  not  as  well 
have  been  performed  inside  or  under  the  walls.  At  the  conclusion 
of  this  attempt,  each  of  the  white  men  was  persuaded  to  shake  hands 
with  two  of  the  Indians,  according  to  a pretended  custom  of  theirs. 

Going  even  to  this  extent  of  folly,  no  sooner  had  two  brawny 
savages  seized  the  hands  of  each  white  man,  than  the  others  began 
moving  around,  endeavoring  to  get  between  Boone  and  the  fort. 
At  last  awakened  to  the  peril  of  their  situation,  they  succeeded  in 
shaking  off  the  swarming  savages,  and  by  a rapid  dash  reached  the 

So 


8(5 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


shelter  of  the  fort,  under  a shower  of  savage  bullets,  without  having 
lost  a man;  but  one  of  them  having  been  wounded. 

Seeing  their  shallow  artifice  detected,  the  Indians  now  threw  oft 

O 7 

the  mask  and  poured  a general  and  protracted  fire  into  the  garrison. 


BOONE’S  FIGHT  OVER  THE  BODY  OF  HIS  SON  AT  BLUE  LICKS. 


This  was  returned  with  a rapidity  and  precision  that  speedily  forced 
the  savages  to  cover,  and  not  daring  to  attempt  to  storm  the  defenses, 
they  resorted  to  a stratagem,  doubtless  the  inspiration  of 
Duquesne. 


Hie  last  siege  of  boonsbobougH. 


St 


They  began  a tunnel  in  the  river  bank,  intending  to  mine  the 
fort,  but  the  discolored  water  warned  Boone  of  the  attempt,  and  he 
began  a counter-mine.  The  dirt  thrown  over  the  walls  showed  that 
their  design  was  known,  and  the  savages,  having  exhausted  every 
artifice  familiar  to  them,  broke  up  their  siege  on  the  ninth  day,  to 
escape  the  deadly  aim  of  the  white  men’s  rifles. 

Their  loss  was  thirty-seven  killed  and  a large  number  wounded, 
while  of  the  besieged  but  two  were  killed  and  four  wounded.  Boone 
says  they  ‘ 4 gathered  up  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  pounds  weight 
of  bullets,  not  counting  those  lodged  in  the  walls  of  the  fort ! ” 

Thus,  for  the  last  time,  did  the  storm  of  Indian  warfare  break  in 
fury  upon  this  fort,  and  dying  away  in  the  flight  of  Duquesne  and 
his  painted  warriors,  the  battlements  of  Boonsborough  were  never 
again  subjected  to  its  scars,  nor  did  these  forests  ever  after  echo  to 
its  muttered  thunder.  These  were  transferred  to  the  posts  beyond, 
and  Boone,  now  relieved  of  its  defense,  made  his  way  to  North 
Carolina,  to  bring  back  his  wife  and  family. 

From  Marshall’s  account  of  this  return,  we  get  a hint  of  some 
family  trouble,  but  if  this  is  the  case,  Boone  makes  no  allusion  to  it, 
and  this  hero,  worthy  of  ancient  Greece,  or  of  Rome  in  her  palmi- 
est days,  speaks  always  with  the  warmest  love  of  his  wife  and 
children. 

With  them  he  returned  to  Boonsborough,  in  the  summer  of  1780, 
and  on  the  6th  day  of  October,  accompanied  by  his  brother,  went 
to  the  Blue  Licks  to  make  salt.  Around  this  spot  some  fatality 
seemed  to  hover,  for,  on  their  return,  the  two  men  were  fired  on  and 
Boone  was  obliged  to  behold  the  brother — endeared  to  him  as  well 
by  their  bonds  of  long  companionship  and  common  dangers,  as  by 
their  ties  of  relationship — sink  to  the  earth,  the  victim  of  remorse- 
less foes. 

Unable  even  to  avenge  him,  Boone  continued  his  flight,  but  find- 
ing himself  trailed  by  a dog  belonging  to  the  savages,  he  coolly 
halted  until  it  came  up,  shot  it,  and  then  succeeded  in  baffling  his 
pursuers,  aided  greatly  by  the  approach  of  night. 

The  next  year  was  one  of  almost  uninterrupted  peace  and  pros- 
perity, and  the  settlements  were  rapidly  increasing,  but  the  spring 
of  1782  brought  baleful  indications  that  not  yet  would  the  clans  of 
the  red  man  relinquish  to  the  settler  their  beloved  hunting  grounds. 


88 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


by  Simon  Girty,  the  most  infamous  of  all  the  white  renegades,  who 
was  strongly  seconded  by  Elliot  and  McKee,  two  others  of  the  same 
class.  Collecting  the  bravest  warriors  from  all  of  the  Northwestern 


Ominous  signs  of  theii  dissatisfaction  became  apparent,  and  the 
wary  began  a preparation  for  the  coming  conflict. 

The  animosity  of  the  Indians  had  been  fanned  to  its  fiercest  heat 


BRUTAL  MURDERS  AT  ESTIL’S  STATION. 


THE  LAST  SIEGE  OE  BOONSBOEOUGH. 


89 


tribes,  small  marauding  parties  were  sent  ahead  to  harass  the  settle- 
ments, and  by  a continual  alarm,  to  prevent  their  sending  aid  to 
each  other. 

This  was  to  be  continued  until  Girty’s  superior  force  should  arrive 
and  wipe  out  the  more  important  posts  in  detail,  when  they  were  to 
again  disperse  in  small  parties  over  the  whole  State,  and  leave  no 
trace  of  the  hated  white  man  within  its  borders., 

A party  of  twenty-live  Wyandots  appeared  near  Estil’s  Station, 
committing  horrible  barbarities.  In  one  cabin  they  seized  a woman 
and  her  two  daughters,  violated  them  with  circumstances  of  peculiar 
atrocity — even  for  savages — then  tomahawked  and  scalped  them. 
Capt.  Estil  pursued  them  with  an  equal  number  of  men,  wTas  out- 
maneuvered  by  them,  or  deserted  by  his  lieutenant,  Miller,  and 
routed  with  heavy  loss,  he  himself  being  amongst  the  killed. 

Two  boys  were  taken  prisoner  by  another  party  of  twenty  sav- 
ages, in  an  attack  on  Hoy’s  Station.  Overtaken  near  the  fatal  Blue 
Licks  by  Capt.  Holden  and  seventeen  men,  the  Indians  routed  the 
whites,  with  a loss  of  four  men. 

The  men  composing  the  garrison  at  Bryant’s  Station  were  prepar- 
ing to  go  to  the  aid  of  their  unfortunate  companions,  when  on  the 
night  of  the  14th  of  August  the  post  was  suddenly  and  silently  sur- 
rounded by  the  main  body  of  the  Indians.  The  garrison  was  to 
march  early  the  next  morning,  and  the  Indians  seeing  their  prepara- 
tions, concluded  that  they  had  been  discovered. 

At  daylight  a small  party  of  them  burst  into  the  open  space  in 
front  of  the  fort  with  horrid  yells  and  a rapid  discharge  of  their  rifles. 
The  more  impetuous  of  the  garrison  were  for  an  immediate  sally 
upon  these  Indians,  but  those  versed  in  savage  artifice  deemed  it 
only  a trap,  and  a careful  survey  of  the  opposite  side  of  the  fort 
convinced  them  that  an  enemy  was  concealed  there. 

The  fort  being  entirely  out  of  water,  having  been  very  foolishly 
built  at  some  distance  from  a spring — as  were  so  many  of  these 
forts — a consultation  was  held  as  to  the  best  method  of  supplying 
it,  and  it  was  determined  to  send  the  women  for  it,  as  it  was  not 
believed  that  the  Indians  would  uncover  their  ambush  for  the  sake 
of  capturing  these  women.  Being  at  last  convinced  of  that  fact, 
the  women  bravely  set  forth  on  their  perilous  mission,  and  deserved 
each  a laurel  crown  by  suceeding;  not  one  of  them  exhibiting  a 


90 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


sign  of  fear  or  unsteadiness  until  they  were  again  safe  within  the 
protection  of  the  fort. 

The  water  secured,  thirteen  of  the  young  men  were  sent  to  the 
side  on  which  the  enemy  had  showed  himself,  and  where  he  was  still 
in  plain  view.  These  were  to  sally  forth,  and  by  a hot  chase  and 


rapid  firing  of  their  rifles,  lead  the  Indians  on  the  opposite  side  to 
suppose  that  the  entire  garrison  were  in  pursuit,  and  the  fort  wholly 
undefended.  This  stratagem  succeeded  admirably,  and  when  he 
fancied  that  his  way  was  entirely  clear,  Girty,  at  the  head  of  five 
hundred  warriors,  dashed  furiously  at  the  western  gate. 


The  last  siege  of  boonsborougii. 


91 


Holding  their  fire  until  every  shot  would  tell,  the  waiting  Ken- 
tuckians fired  volley  after  volley  into  the  densely  crowded  masses  of 
their  enemies.  The  surprise  of  the  Indians  may  be  imagined,  and 
they  lost  no  time  in  seeking  cover  from  the  destructive  fire.  The 
sallying  party  entered  the  fort  on  the  other  side  at  this  time,  and  all 
were  In  high  spirits. 

But  fortune,  now  turned  in  favor  of  the  whites,  had  another  pleas- 
ant surprise  in  store  for  them,  though  the  savages  had  by  this  time 
sat  down  before  the  post  in  a regular  siege.  Two  couriers,  dis- 
patched to  Lexington  for  succor,  had  cut  their  way  through  the 
Indian  lines  early  in  the  morning,  and  about  two  o’clock  in  the  after- 
noon reinforcements  appeared  in  the  shape  of  sixteen  horsemen  and 
some  forty  foot-soldiers.  Within  pistol  shot,  along  the  lane  the 
horsemen  were  following,  lay  more  than  three  hundred  Indians. 
Everything  was  quiet  when  the  troops  came  in  view,  and  entering 
the  lane  at  a gallop,  they  were  greeted  by  a shower  of  balls. 

Riding  for  three  hundred  yards  through  this  double  line  of  the 
enemy,  not  a man  nor  horse  was  touched — owing  doubtless  to  the 
clouds  of  dust  raised  by  the  horses’  hoofs — and  they  dashed  safely  into 
the  fort.  The  valiant  footmen  were  proceeding  through  the  corn  field, 
on  one  side  of  the  road,  when  they  heard  the  terrific  firing,  and  like 
true  heroes — without  waiting  to  count  the  cost — they  sprang  to  the 
aid  of  their  friends.  Here  they  saw  that  the  horsemen  had  escaped 
to  the  fort,  but  found  themselves  cut  off  by  more  than  six  times 
their  number. 

Dodging  rapidly  back  through  the  tall  corn,  most  of  them  made 
their  escape  into  the  woods,  or  thickets,  and  only  six  whites  were 
killed  and  wounded,  though  the  skirmish  lasted  over  an  hour. 
Had  not  the  rifles  of  the  Kentuckians  been  loaded,  while  those  of  theii 
enemies  were  empty,  but  few  of  the  former  would  have  escaped. 

A hardy  young  fellow,  closely  pursued  by  Girty  and  five  or  six 
savages,  turned  and  fired  his  rifle,  and  the  renegade  fell.  The 
Indians  halting,  the  young  fellow  escaped.  Girty’s  life  was  saved 
by  a thick  piece  of  sole  leather  in  his  pouch,  and  he  was  soon  able 
to  continue  the  conduct  of  the  siege.  Thus  does  Providence  pro- 
tect the  evil,  as  well  as  the  good,  and  for  its  inscrutable  purposes 
preserve  alive  the  miscreant  and  the  hero. 

Owing  to  their  ill  success,  the  Indians  were  for  breaking  up  the 
siege  at  once,  but  Girty  determined  to  try  the  virtues  of  negotia- 
tion, and  signalling  for  a truce,  he  mounted  a stump  and  began  a 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


D2 

harangue,  by  telling  the  besieged  who  he  was,  and  of  his  overpower- 
ing numbers;  promising  good  treatment,  if  they  surrendered,  and  if 
they  did  not,  his  artillery,  which  he  said  was  coming  up,  would  batter 
down  the  fort,  and  the  garrison  would  be  given  over  to  the  Indians. 

Seeing  that  this  speech  was  beginning  to  have  quite  an  effect  upon 
the  garrison,  who  remembered  that  Byrd  had,  in  his  invasion  with 
savages  a few  years  before,  used  artillery  with  destructive  effect,  a 
brave  young  fellow,  named  Reynolds,  the  embodiment  of  high  spir- 
its, bold  determination  and  indomitable  courage,  mounted  an  eleva- 
ted position  and  made  the  following  reply  : 

“It  is  useless  to  tell  us  your  name;  that  is  w^ell  known;  in  fact 
I’ve  got  a mangy  cur,  so  utterly  worthless  and  unreliable,  that  I’ve 
given  him  the  name  of  Simon  Grirty,  on  account  of  his  resemblance 
to  you.  As  for  your  artillery  or  reinforcements,  if  you’ve  got  any, 
bring  ’em  up  and  be  d d to  you  ! If  any  of  you,  by  any  acci- 

dent, should  get  into  the  fort,  we’ll  drop  our  guns  and  thrash  you 
out  with  a lot  of  switches  we’ve  cut  for  the  purpose. 

In  conclusion  let  me  tell  you,  that  the  whole  country  is  up  and 
marching  to  our  relief,  and  if  you  want  your  scalps  to  dry  in  the 
sun  on  the  tops  of  our  cabins,  just  wait  twenty-four  hours,  and 
you  will  be  gratified.”  With  hypocritical  expressions  of  concern 
for  their  fate,  Girty  withdrew,  internally  raging  at  Reynolds’  jibes 
and  insults,  but  the  next  morning  the  Indians  had  raised  the  siege 
and  vanished.  By  noon  one  hundred  and  sixty-seven  men  had 
reached  the  station;  amongst  them  Col.  Daniel  Boone,  the  Nestor  of 
the  settlers,  and  his  youngest  son,  Israel,  with  a strong  party  from 
Boonsborough. 

Although  it  was  known  that  the  Indians  trebled  them  in  number, 
and  also  that  a little  patience  on  their  part  would  enable  Col.  Logan 
to  reach  them,  with  a large  body  of  men,  yet  so  great  was  the  anx- 
iety of  the  whites  to  engage  their  enemies,  that  they  would  not  hear 
of  waiting,  and  on  the  afternoon  of  the  18th  of  August,  began  the 
pursuit  of  the  foe.  The  slowness  of  their  retreat,  as  well  as  the 
broad  trail  they  left,  gave  to  the  cool  and  cautious  mind  of  Boone 
ominous  indications,  that  the  Indians  courted  rather  than  shunned  the 
pursuit. 

Camping  in  the  forest  that  night,  another  lowering  portent  was 
given  when  they  came  the  next  day  in  view  of  the  Indian  rear 
guard,  at  the  ill  omened  Blue  Licks,  a spot  that  seemed  ever  destined 


THE  LAST  SIEGE  OF  BOONSBOROUGII. 


93 


to  prove  fatal  to  the  whites.  This  rear  guard  was  moving  leisurely 
along,  but  it  seemed  as  if  nothing  could  restrain  the  whites  from 
rushing  on  to  their  destruction. 

As  the  Indians  disappeared  slowly  over  the  hill,  a halt  was  called 
and  Cols.  Todd  and  Trigg,  who  were  in  command,  assembled  Boone 
and  the  other  officers  for  a council.  In  this  crisis  all  eyes  were 
turned  to  Boone,  who,  pointing  out  that  the  enemy  evidently  invited 
battle,  advised  first,  a halt  until  Logan  should  come  up;  second, 
that  a portion  of  the  command  should  be  detached,  so  as  to  take 
the  enemy  in  the  rear,  at  two  ravines  which  joined  each  other  in  the 
road  about  a mile  further  on;  where,  he  felt  certain,  the  Indians  had 
formed  an  ambush. 

While  the  other  officers  were  discussing  these  plans,  Major  Hugh 
McGarry — a man  at  all  times  of  the  fiercest  temper,  and  almost  a 
maniac,  when  nerved  by  the  presence  of  danger,  or  a chance  of  bat- 
tle— here  spurred  his  horse  into  the  stream,  and  with  the  cry : “ Let 
all  follow  me,  who  are  not  cowards,”  started  up  the  hill,  over  which 
the  Indians  had  disappeared,  thus  precipitating  the  terrible  disaster 
which  ensued. 

Horse  and  foot  now  rushed  into  the  swift  water,  each  striving  to 
be  foremost,  and  once  across,  the  rivalry  for  precedence  continued. 
Boone,  seeing  that  his  caution  had  been  set  at  naught,  rode  with  his 
son  into  the  front  rank,  and  maintained  his  place  by  the  side  of  the 
fiery  McGarry.  No  order  was  observed,  and  the  troops  rushed  pell 
mell  into  the  ambuscade,  which  enclosed  them  on  each  side  like  the 
wings  of  a net. 

The  combat,  which  now  ensued,  was  desperate  The  whites 
fought  with  the  fury  of  tigers,  but  they  were  on  a bare  ridge,  in 
open  view;  while  the  savages  were,  for  a while,  sheltered  in  brushy 
ravines.  Seeing  how  small  the  white  force  was,  they  now  began  to 
emerge  from  their  coverts,  and  the  rifles  of  the  Kentuckians  told 
with  fearful  effect  upon  their  swarming  masses. 

The  officers  and  men,  however,  were  falling  on  every  side,  cut 
down  by  the  tempest  of  bullets  from  the  Indian  ranks,  and  the  lat- 
ter began  to  extend  their  right  wing,  so  as  to  cut  the  whites  off  from 
the  river.  Finding  that  all  was  lost,  and  noting  this  flanking  move- 
ment, the  Kentuckians  at  last  turned  in  retreat,  pursued  eagerly  by 
the  flushed  and  victorious  savages. 


94 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


McClung  mentions,  among  the  slain  in  this  action,  Colonels  Todd 
and  Trigg,  Captain  McBride,  and  the  universally  lamented  Major 
Harlan.  In  describing  McGarry,  he  says:  “ He  has  always  been 
represented  as  a man  of  fiery  and  daring  courage,  strongly  tinctured 


REINFORCING  BRYANT’S  STATION. 


with  ferocity,  and  unsoftened  by  any  of  the  humane  and  gentle  quali- 
ties, which  awaken  affection.  In  the  hour  of  battle,  his  presence 
was  invaluable,  but  in  civil  life  the  ferocity  of  his  temper  rendered 
him  an  unpleasant  companion.5 5 


THE  LAST  SIEGE  OF  BOONSBOROUGH. 


95 


The  same  authority  gives  McGarry’s  reason  for  his  hasty  action, 
as  stated  by  the  fiery  Major  himself.  44  He  said  that,  in  the  hurried 
council,  which  was  held  at  Bryant’s  on  the  18th,  he  had  strenuously 
urged  Todd  and  Trigg  to  halt  for  twenty-four  hours,  assuring  them 
that,  with  the  aid  of  Logan,  they  would  be  able  to  follow  to  Chilli- 
cothe,  if  necessary,  and  that  their  numbers  then  were  too  weak  to 
encounter  the  Indians  alone. 

He  offered,  he  said,  to  pledge  his  head  that  the  Indians  would  not 
return  with  such  precipitation,  as  was  supposed,  but  would  afford 
ample  time  to  collect  more  force,  and  give  them  battle  with  a pros- 
pect of  success.  He  added  that  Col.  Todd  scouted  his  arguments 
and  declared:  44  That  if  a single  day  were  lost,  the  Indians  would 
never  be  overtaken — but  would  cross  the  Ohio  and  disperse ; that 
now  was  the  time  to  strike  them,  while  in  a body- — that  to  talk 
of  their  numbers  was  nonsense — the  more  the  merrier ! — that  for 
his  part  he  was  determined  to  pursue,  without  a moment’s  delay, 
and  did  not  doubt  but  that  there  were  enough  brave  men  on  the 
ground  to  enable  him  to  attack  them  with  effect.” 

McGarry  declared:  “That  he  felt  somewhat  nettled  at  the  manner 
in  which  his  advice  had  been  received ; that  he  thought  Todd  and 
Trigg  jealous  of  Logan,  who,  as  senior  Colonel,  would  be  entitled  to 
the  command  on  his  arrival,  and  that,  in  their  eagerness  to  have  the 
honor  of  the  victory  to  themselves,  they  were  rashly  throwing  them- 
selves into  a condition,  which  would  endanger  the  safety  of  the 
country.” 

“However,  sir,”  continued  he,  with  an  air  of  unamiable  triumph, 
“ when  I saw  the  gentlemen  so  keen  for  a fight  I gave  way,  and 
joined  in  the  pursuit  as  willingly  as  any,  but  when  we  came  in  sight 
of  the  enemy,  and  the  gentlemen  began  to  talk  of  4 numbers,’ 
4 position,’  4 Logan  ’ and  4 waiting,’  I burst  into  a passion,  d — d 
them  for  a set  of  cowards,  who  could  not  be  wise  until  they  were 
scared  into  it  and  swore  that  since  they  had  come  so  far  for  a fight 
— they  should  fight,  or  I would  disgrace  them  forever  ! ” 

“That  when  I spoke  of  waiting  for  Logan,  on  the  day  before, they 
had  scouted  the  idea  and  hinted  something  about  4 courage  ’ — that 
now  it  would  be  shown  who  had  courage,  or  who  were  cowards, 
that  could  talk  big  when  the  enemy  was  at  a distance,  but  turned 
pale  when  danger  was  near.  I then  dashed  into  the  river,  and  called 
upon  all  who  were  not  cowards  to  follow  ! ” 


A (3 


CONQUERING  TIIE  WILDERNESS . 


When  Logan  marched  to  the  battle  held,  to  give  burial  to  those 
who  had  fallen,  McClung  says:  “ On  the  second  day  he  reached  the 
held.  The  enemy  were  gone,  but  the  bodies  of  the  Kentuckians 
still  lay  unburied  on  the  spot  wrhere  they  had  fallen.  Immense 
flocks  of  buzzards  were  soaring  over  the  battle  ground,  and  the  bod- 
ies of  the  dead  had  become  so  much  swollen  and  disfigured,  that  it 
was  impossible  to  recognize  the  features  of  their  most  particular 
friends. 5 ’ 

“Many  corses  were  floating  near  the  shore  of  the  northern  bank, 
already  putrid  from  the  action  of  the  sun,  and  partially  eaten  by 
fishes.  The  whole  were  carefully  collected  by  order  of  Colonel 


MAJOR  HUGH  M’GARRY. 


Logan,  and  interred  as  decently  as  the  nature  of  the  soil  would 
permit.” 

The  retreat  from  any  field  is  usually  characterized  only  by  terror 
and  selfishness,  but  this  one  brought  forth  some  noble  traits  of  char- 
acter; pure  gold  sublimed  by  the  fierce  fires  of  affliction.  One  of  the 
mounted  men,  named  Netherland — whose  mild,  gentle  manners  had 
almost  gained  for  him,  amongst  the  rough  borderers,  the  reputation 
of  a coward — fought  bravely,  and  when  the  retreat  came,  in  company 
with  other  horsemen,  rode  into  the  ford  and  crossed  in  safety.  Here 
the  others,  some  eighteen  or  twenty  in  number,  showed  no  signs  of 
halting.  When  wheeling  his  horse,  upon  the  bank,  Nether  land  called 


THE  LAST  SIEGE  OF  BOONSBOROUGH. 


97 


upon  them  to  make  a stand,  fire  upon  the  Indians,  and  save  the  poor 
fellows  struggling  in  the  water. 

Roused  by  his  example,  they  followed  his  command,  and  poured 
so  deadly  a volley  into  the  pursuers,  that  they  were  glad  to  seek 
cover,  while  the  footmen  crossed  in  safety.  The  Indians,  however, 
were  crossing  in  numbers  above  and  below,  and  the  flight  was  again 
continued;  most  of  the  whites,  who  had  crossed,  succeeded  in  mak- 
ing their  escape,  though  the  pursuit  was  kept  up  furiously  for  twenty 
miles. 

Here,  too,  the  gallant  Reynolds,  whose  taunts  had  so  irritated 
Girty,  proved  himself  a man  of  deeds  as  well  as  words.  Fighting 
with  distinguished  gallantry  throughout  the  entire  action,  he  had, 
amongst  the  very  last,  turned  his  horse  in  retreat  and  some  time 
before  reaching  the  river  overtook  Captain  Patterson,  infirm  from 
wounds  received  in  former  actions,  and  now  almost  spent  with  exer- 
tion. The  other  horsemen  had  passed  him,  leaving  him  to  his  fate, 
but  young  Reynolds — a hero,  whose  name  should  resound  through- 
out the  ages — dismounted,  helped  Patterson  to  the  saddle,  and  dash- 
ing from  the  field,  the  latter  succeeded  in  saving  his  life. 

The  Indians  were  now  almost  upon  Reynolds;  some,  in  fact,  hav- 
ing already  passed  him,  and  death  seemed  inevitable,  but  evading 
his  foes  with  marvelous  agility,  by  darting  back  through  their  lines, 
he  dashed  into  a ravine  and  swam  the  river  below  the  ford.  Sitting 
down  upon  the  bank  to  remove  his  buckskin  breeches,  which  were 
soaked  with  water  and  whose  weight  checked  his  efforts,  he  was  taken 
by  a band  of  Indians.  Wishing  to  convey  him  to  their  towns  for 
torture,  they  compelled  him  to  accompany  them  in  the  pursuit;  and 
fortune  seems  for  a while  to  have  done  a shabby  thing  in  thus 
treating  our  hero,  but  this  was,  as  we  shall  see,  only  a semblance  of 
her  ill  will. 

His  captors,  seeing  a small  party  of  Kentuckians  ahead,  confided 
him  to  three  of  their  number,  and  two  of  them  becoming  impatient 
to  join  in  the  chase,  left  him  with  the  third  man,  who  was  armed 
wfith  a rifle  and  tomahawk,  while  Reynolds,  of  course,  was  unarmed. 
Jogging  leisurely  along  together,  the  Indian  stooped  to  tie  his  moca- 
sin,  when  Reynolds,  who  had  been  waiting  for  some  such  chance, 
knocked  him  down  with  a terrific  blow  of  his  fist  and  darted  off  into 
the  thicket,  making  good  his  escape. 


98 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Boone  had  seen  the  fall  of  his  son  with  the  anguish  that  can  only 
come  to  a heart  of  such  affection,  and  when  the  retreat  began,  he, 
with  a small  body  of  his  men,  dashed  under  a heavy  fire,  into  one  of 
the  ravines,  which  had  sheltered  the  Indians,  and  beating  off  the  few 
detached  bands  still  there,  they  made  their  way  to  the  river,  swam 
it  at  the  very  point  afterward  crossed  by  Reynolds,  and  escaped  to 
Bryant’s  station  in  safety. 

Of  the  Kentuckians,  sixty  were  killed  and  seven  taken  prisoners, 
of  whom  four  were  put  to  death,  with  horrible  tortures,  by  the  sav- 
ages. 

The  position  of  the  enemy,  his  after-attack,  and  the  arrival  at 
Bryant’s  station,  on  the  very  day  of  the  battle,  of  Col.  Logan  with 
four  hundred  and  fifty  men,  justified  all  of  Boone’s  advice,  and 
proved  the  value  of  his  suggestions. 

Most  of  the  Indians  engaged  in  the  battle  of  the  Blue  Licks,  fol- 
lowed the  usual  custom  of  returning  home  immediately  with  the 
prisoners  and  spoils,  but  a few  of  them,  leaving  the  main  body, 
beat  up  the  white  settlement  on  Simpson’s  Creek,  in  Jefferson 
County.  Attacking  in  the  night,  they  had  made  their  way  into  the 
houses,  before  the  whites  fully  comprehended  what  was  going  on. 
Making  as  brave  a defense  as  was  possible  under  the  circumstances, 
still  the  Indians  captured  a number  of  women  and  children,  besides 
killing  several  men. 

The  deeds  of  Thomas  Randolph  are  worthy  of  record.  'When  his 
house  was  entered,  he  killed  several  of  the  savages,  before  they  suc- 
ceeded in  murdering  his  wife  and  infant.  Escaping  then  through 
the  roof  with  his  remaining  child,  he  reached  the  ground,  only  to 
be  attacked  by  two  Indians.  Although  encumbered  with  his  child, 
and  entirely  unarmed,  he  beat  these  off  and  reached  the  woods  in 
safety. 

Of  Boone’s  exploits  with  the  army  of  Gen.  Clark,  who  marched 
upon  the  Indian  towns,  to  avenge  this  terrible  slaughter,  the  old 
pioneer  says  nothing,  and,  in  fact,  beyond  destroying  the  towns  and 
crops  of  the  savages,  the  expedition  was  a failure,  the  Indians  flying 
without  giving  battle,  though  the  white  scouts  managed  to  take  five 
scalps  and  seven  prisoners. 

While  the  troops  under  Clark  were  carrying  the  war  into  the 
Indian  country,  a party  of  the  savages  made  a dash  into  the  Crab 
Orchard  settlement.  Sending  one  of  their  number  to  reconnoitre  a 


THE  LAST  SIEGE  OF  BOONSBOROUGH. 


99 


detached  house,  he  found  only  a woman,  her  children  and  a negro 
man.  This  was  a chance  to  monopolize  the  glory  of  conquering  a 
garrison  of  non-combatants,  and  the  savage  immediately  seized  it. 

Pushing  his  way  into  the  house,  he  boldly  seized  the  negro,  but 
soon  found  that  he  had  “caught  a Tartar/’  for,  putting  forth  all  of 
his  strength,  the  negro  threw  the  Indian  to  the  floor,  and  called  to  his 
mistress  to  take  the  axe  and  cut  off  his  head.  This  was  promptly 
done,  and  none  too  soon,  for  the  others  were  seen  hurrying  to  their 
comrade’s  aid. 

Having  no  gun  in  the  house,  the  woman  barred  the  door  and 
siezed  an  old  rusty  rifle-barrel,  and  pointing  it  rapidly  out  of  the 
different  portholes  in  the  walls,  the  Indians  took  to  their  heels,  and 
made  no  other  attempt  at  mischief  in  the  settlement. 

Though  the  Indians  were  giving  the  settlers  but  little  trouble  at 
this  period,  yet  small  parties  of  them  occasionally  ventured  into  the 
settlements  for  the  purpose  of  spying  out  the  affairs  of  their  ene- 
mies, and  if  occasion  offered,  doubtless  to  murder  or  abduct  any 
one  they  might  find  unprotected.  Boone’s  escape  from  them  had 
never  been  forgotten  or  forgiven,  and  it  would  have  been  a grand 
achievement  for  any  of  their  warriors  who  could  again  capture  him. 

On  one  occasion  he  was  curing  some  tobacco,  he  had  unselfishly 
raised  to  accommodate  his  visitors,  for  it  is  said  that  he  himself 
never  used  it,  when  four  burly  Indians  suddenly  entered  the  cov- 
ered pen  in  which  he  was  hanging  it,  tier  above  tier,  and  pointing 
their  cocked  rifles  at  him,  told  him  to  come  down  and  go  with  them. 
“We  got  you  now,  Boone.  No  git  away  no  more.  We  carry  you 
back  to  Chillicothe.  No  cheat  Indian  no  more.” 

The  faces  of  some  of  them  were  familiar,  and  Boone  spoke  to 
them  kindly,  telling  them  he«was  glad  to  see  them  and  as  soon  as 
he  had  got  his  tobacco  hung,  he  would  be  down.  The  Indians 
did  not  take  their  eyes  off  of  him,  and  gathering  an  armful  of  the 
dryest  tobacco  he  could  find,  he  adroitly  dropped  himself  upon 
them,  filling  their  upturned  faces  with  the  pungent  tobacco, 
which,  with  a right  good  will,  he  rubbed  into  their  eyes  and  noses. 
Sneezing  frantically,  and  blinded  with  the  stinging  dust,  the  Indians 
roared  with  pain,  and  Boone,  darting  out  of  the  narrow  door,  made 
good  his  escape. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


MISFORTUNES  OF  BOONE. 


PERIOD  OF  REPOSE LAND  SHARKS  AND  SPECULATORS A DASTARDLY 

OUTRAGE KENTUCKY’S  SHAME M’CLUNG’S  HINTS BYRON’S  EULOGY 

REMOVAL  TO  VIRGINIA STARTS  FOR  MISSOURI FRIENDLY  RECEP- 
TION BY  FRENCH  AND  SPANISH REACHES  ST.  LOUIS AUDUBON’S 

DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  PIONEER AN  ANECDOTE  RELATED  BY  BOONE 

HIS  POWERS  OF  MEMORY SURROUNDED  AND  CAPTURED IMMINENT 

PERIL IN  THE  INDIAN  CAMP HIS  STOIC  BEHAVIOR HIS  BOTTLE  OF 

WHISKY SEARCHED  BY  THE  SQUAWS A MIDNIGHT  ORGIE SAVAGE 

REVELRY A FREE  TREAT THE  MIDNIGHT  SHOT THE  COUNCIL. 


We  now  approach  a period  of  repose  for  Kentucky,  which  was 
destined  to  endure,  and  the  country,  which  no  longer  had  need  of  his 
strong  arm  and  wise  counsels,  did  not  hesitate  to  cast  off  her  grand 
old  pioneer  without  remorse.  Defects  were  picked  in  his  titles,  and 
swindling  speculators,  invoking  the  aid  of  the  legal 
4 Scales,  wherein  law  weigheth  equity  down,” 

robbed  him  of  all  of  his  lands,  including  even  his  farm  at  Boons- 
borough,  which  had  so  often  witnessd  his  wisdom  and  his  prowess. 

It  was  a dastardly  outrage,  that  the  State  of  Kentucky  should, 
under  the  aegis  of  her  laws,  have  afforded  protection  to  the  des- 
poiler, in  his  old  age,  of  one  whose  manhood  was  given  to  her  glory 
and  defense.  It  was  a burning  shame  that  the  comrades,  by  whose 
side  he  had  ever  stood  in  the  hour  of  danger,  had  not  risen  up  in 
their  indignation,  and  demanded  the  redress  of  his  wrongs. 

Of  this  era  of  his  lif6,  McClung — who  says  nothing  of  his  spolia- 
tion— writes  in  a rather  flippant,  though  it  may  be  an  uninten- 
tionally unkind  vein : “As  refinement  of  manners  advanced,  and 
the  general  standard  of  intelligence  became  elevated  by  the  constant 
arrival  of  families  of  rank  and  influence , the  rough  old  woodsman 
found  himself  entirely  out  of  his  element.  * * * por  several 

years  he  wandered  among  the  living  group,  which  thronged  the  court- 
yard or  the  churches,  like  a venerable  relic  of  other  days.  He  was 
among  them,  but  not  of  them.  He  pined  in  secret  for  the  wild  and 
lonely  forests  of  the  West — for  the  immense  prairies,  trodden  only 
by  the  buffalo  or  the  elk.” 


100 


MISFORTUNES  OF  BOONE. 


101 


How  many,  we  wonder,  of  those — of  whom  he  deemed  the  “ rough 
old  woodsman  ’ ’ an  unfit  associate — ever  won  tribute  from  such  a 
source  as  did  Daniel  Boone  from  the  immortal  pen  of  Byron,  who 
says  of  him  : 

“ Of  all  men,  saving  Sylla,  the  man-slayer, 

Who  passes  for  in  life  and  death  most  lucky, 

Of  the  great  names,  which  in  our  faces  stare, 

The  General  Boone,  backwoodsman  of  Kentucky, 

Was  happiest  amongst  mortals  anywhere; 

For  killing  nothing  but  a bear  or  buck,  he 
Enjoy’d  the  lonely,  vigorous,  harmless  days 
Of  his  old  age  in  wilds  of  deepest  maze. 

Crime  came  not  near  him — she  is  not  the  child 
Of  solitude ; Health  shrank  not  from  him — for 
Her  home  is  in  the  rarely  trodden  wild, 

Where  if  men  seek  her  not  and  death  be  more 
Their  choice  than  life,  forgive  them,  as  beguiled 
By  habit  to  what  their  own  hearts  abhor — 

In  cities  caged.  The  present  case  in  point  I 
Cite  is,  that  Boone  lived  hunting  up  to  ninety; 

And  what’s  still  stranger,  left  behind  a name, 

For  which  men  vainly  decimate  the  throng, 

Not  only  famous,  but  of  that  good  fame, 

Without  which  glory’s  but  a tavern  song — 

Simple,  serene,  the  antipodes  of  shame, 

Which  hate  nor  envy  e’er  could  tinge  with  wrong; 

An  active  hermit,  even  in  age  the  child 
Of  nature,  or  the  man  of  Kess  run  wild. 

’Tis  true  he  shrank  from  men,  even  of  his  nation — 

When  they  built  up  unto  his  darling  trees, 

He  moved  some  hundred  miles  off  for  a station 
Where  there  were  fewer  houses  and  more  ease. 

The  inconvenience  of  civilization 
Is  that  you  neither  can  be  pleased,  nor  please ; 

But,  when  he  met  the  individual  man, 

He  showed  himself  as  kind  as  mortal  can. 

He  was  not  all  alone,  around  him  grew 
A sylvan  tribe  of  children  of  the  chase, 

Whose  young,  unwaken’d  world  was  ever  new 
Nor  sword  nor  sorrow  yet  had  left  a trace 
On  her  unwrinkled  brow,  nor  could  you  view 
A frown  on  nature’s,  nor  on  human  face; 

The  free-born  forest  found  and  kept  them  free, 

And  fresh  as  is  a torrent  or  a tree. 

And  tall  and  strong  and  swift  of  foot  were  they, 

Beyond  the  dwarfing  city’s  pale  abortions, 

Because  their  thoughts  had  never  been  the  prey 
Of  care  or  gain,  the  green  woods  were  their  portions — 


102 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


No  sinking  spirits  told  them  they  grew  gray, 

No  fashion  made  them  apes  of  her  distortions; 

Simple  they  were,  not  savage,  and  their  rifles, 

Though  very  true,  were  not  yet  used  for  trifles. 

Motion  was  in  their  days,  rest  in  their  slumbers, 

And  cheerfulness  the  handmaid  of  their  toil ; 

Not  yet  too  many,  nor  too  few  their  numbers; 

Corruption  could  not  make  their  hearts  its  spoil ; 

The  lust  which  stings,  the  splendor  which  encumbers, 

With  the  free  foresters  divide  no  spoil ; 

Serene,  not  sullen,  were  the  solitudes 
Of  this  unsighing  people  of  the  woods. 

Impatient  of  “the  law’s  delays,  the  insolence  of  office,  and  the 
spurns  the  patient  merit  of  the  unworthy  takes, ’’the  unmurmuring  old 
man,  weighed  down  with  years  and  trouble,  removed  to  Virginia,  and 
settled  on  the  Kenawha  River,  near  Point  Pleasant,  and  remained 
there  from  1 7 90  to  about  1797.  From  there  he  started  for  the  wilder- 
ness of  Missouri,  then  Upper  Louisiana,  to  find  a home  in  lieu  of  that 
of  which  he  had  been  robbed,  in  Kentucky.  According  to  Peck, 
this  emmigration  occurred  in  1795,  but  Perkins,  on  the  authority  of 
Thomas  J.  Hinde — a neighbor  of  the  old  pioneer,  who  saw  him  set  out 
with  his  pack-horse  and  a solitary  companion — places  it  in  October, 
1797.  Reaching  St.  Louis,  he  found  that  his  fame  had  preceded 
him,  and  the  kind-hearted  French  and  Spaniards  extended  to  him  a 
hearty  welcome.  Audubon,  the  distinguished  naturalist,  passed  a 
night  with  Boone  in  Missouri,  and  thus  speaks  of  the  old  pioneer: 
“The  stature  and  general  appearance  of  this  wanderer  of  the 
western  forests  approached  the  gigantic.  His  chest  was  broad  and 
prominent ; his  muscular  powers  displayed  themselves  in  every  limb ; 
his  countenance  gave  indication  of  his  great  courage,  enterprise  and 
perseverance.  He  related  to  me  the  following  account  of  his 
powers  of  memory,  which  I lay  before  you,  kind  reader,  in  his  own 
words,  hoping  that  the  simplicity  of  his  style  may  prove  interesting 
to  you : 

“ I was  once,”  said  he,  “ on  a hunting  expedition  on  the  banks 
of  the  Green  River,  when  the  lower  parts  of  that  State  (Kentucky), 
were  still  in  the  hands  of  nature,  and  none  but  the  sons  of  the  soil 
were  looked  upon  as  its  lawful  proprietors.  We  Virginians  had  for 
some  time  been  waging  a war  of  intrusion  upon  them,  and  I, 
amongst  the  rest,  rambled  through  the  woods  in  pursuit  of  their 
race,  as  I now  would  follow  the  tracks  of  any  ravenous  animal. 


MISFORTUNES  OF  BOONE 


BOONE  ALONE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS  OF  KENTUCKY, 


104 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS, 


The  Indians  outwitted  me  one  dark  night,  and  I was  as  unexpectedly 
as  suddenly  made  a prisoner  by  them.  The  trick  had  been  managed 
with  great  skill,  for  no  sooner  had  I extinguished  the  fire  of  my  camp 


and  laid  me  down  to  rest,  in  full  security,  as  I thought,  than  I felt 
myself  seized  by  an  undistinguishable  number  of  hands,  and  was 
immediately  pinioned,  as  if  about  to  be  led  to  the  scaffold  for  execu- 
tion. 


MISFOKTUNES  OF  BOONE. 


105 


4 4 To  have  attempted  to  be  refractory  would  have  proved  useless 
and  dangerous  to  my  life,  and  I suffered  myself  to  be  removed  from 
my  camp  to  theirs,  a few  miles  distant,  without  uttering  even  a 
word  of  complainto  You  are  aware,  I dare  say,  that  to  act  in  this 
manner  was  the  best  policy,  as  you  understand  that  by  so  doing  I 
proved  to  the  Indians  at  once  that  I was  born  and  bred  as  fearless 
of  death  as  any  of  themselves. 

“When  we  reached  the  camp,  great  rejoicings  were  exhibited. 
Two  squaws  and  a few  papooses  appeared  particularly  delighted  at 
the  sight  of  me,  and  I was  assured  by  very  unequivocal  gestures  and 
words  that  in  the  morning  the  mortal  enemy  of  the  redskins  would 
cease  to  live.  I never  opened  my  lips,  but  was  busy  contriving 
some  scheme,  which  might  enable  me  to  give  the  rascals  the  slip 
before  dawn.  The  women  fell  immediately  searching  about  my 
hunting  shirt  for  whatever  they  might  think  valuable,  and  fortunately 
for  me  soon  found  my  flask  filled  with  Monongahela9  (that  is, 
reader,  strong  whisky). 

“A  terrific  grin  was  exhibited  on  their  murderous  countenances, 
while  my  heart  throbbed  with  joy  at  the  anticipation  of  their  intoxi- 
cation. The  crew  immediately  began  to  beat  their  bellies  and  sing, 
as  they  passed  the  bottle  from  mouth  to  mouth.  How  often  did  I 
wish  the  bottle  ten  time  its  size,  and  filled  with  aqua  fortis  ! I 
observed  that  the  squaws  drank  more  freely  than  the  warriors,  and 
again  my  spirits  were  about  to  be  depressed,  when  the  report  of  a 
gun  was  heard  at  a distance.  The  Indians  all  jumped  on  their  feet. 
The  singing  and  drinking  were  both  brought  to  a stand,  and  I saw, 
with  inexpressible  joy,  the  men  walk  off  to>  some  distance  and  talk 
to  the  squaws.” 


CHAPTER  Yin. 


LAST  DAYS  OP  BOONE. 


ANECDOTE  CONTINUED WARRIORS  LEAVE SQUAWS  LEFT  ON  GUARD 

BECOME  DRUNK BOONE  BURNS  HIS  BONDS HIS  FIRST  DESIRE SPARES 

THE  SQUAWS’  LIVES MARKS  A TREE A DISPUTED  BOUNDARY 

BOONE’S  TREE  IN  QUESTION TRIP  TO  GREEN  RIVER REFLECTIONS  OF 

BOONE THE  CHANGES  OF  THIRTY  YEARS IDENTIFIES  HIS  TREE THE 

LAW-SUIT  WON CONCLUSION  OF  AUDUBON’S  ANECDOTE BOONE’S  DEBTS 

PAID WILLING  TO  DIE BOONE  ROBBED A NOBLE  MAN COL. 

THOMAS  HART’S  LETTER HIS  OPINION  OF  BOONE ATTACKED  BY  OSAGES 

FORCES  THEM  TO  RETREAT HIS  WANT  OF  FEAR SURROUNDED  BY 

INDIANS A CLOSE  PRISONER BOONE’S  PETITION  TO  CONGRESS MI- 
SERLY ECONOMY  OF  THAT  BODY LAST  DAYS  OF  BOONE DEATH  OF  HIS 

WIFE BOONE’S  DEATH ACTION  OF  THE  MISSOURI  LEGISLATURE 

KENTUCKY’S  TARDY  JUSTICE. 

“I  knew  that  they  were  consulting  about  me,  and  I foresaw  that 
in  a few  moments  the  warriors  would  go  to  discover  the  cause  of  the 
gun  having  been  fired  so  near  their  camp.  I expected  that  the 
squaws  would  be  left  to  guard  me.  Well,  sir,  it  was  just  so. 
They  returned,  the  men  took  up  their  guns  and  walked  away.  The 
squaws  sat  down  again,  and  in  less  than  five  minutes  had  my  bottle 
up  to  their  dirty  mouths,  gurgling  down  their  throats  the  remains 
of  the  whisky. 

“With  what  pleasure  did  I see  them  becoming  more  and  more 
drunk,  until  the  liquor  took  such  hold  of  them  that  it  was  quite 
impossible  for  the  women  tc  be  of  any  service.  They  tumbled  down, 
rolled  about  and  began  to  snore,  when  I,  having  no  other  chance  to 
free  myself  from  the  cords  that  fastened  me,  rolled  over  and  over 
toward  the  fire,  and  after  a short  time  burned  them  asunder.  I rose  on 
my  feet,  stretched  my  stiffened  sinews,  snatched  my  rifle,  and  for 
once  in  my  life  spared  that  of  the  Indians.  I now  recollect  how 
desirous  I once  or  twice  felt  to  lay  open  the  skulls  of  the  wretches 
with  my  tomahawk,  but  when  I again  thought  upon  killing  beings 
unprepared  and  unable  to  defend  themselves,  it  looked  like  murder 
without  need,  and  I gave  up  the  idea. 

“But,  sir,  I determined  to  mark  the  spot,  and  walking  to  a thrifty 
ash  sapling,  I cut  out  of  it  three  large  chips  and  ran  off.  I soon 

106  = 


LAST  LAYS  OF  BOONE. 


107 


reached  the  river,  soon  crossed  it,  and  threw  myself  deep  into  the 
cane-brakes,  imitating  the  tracks  of  an  Indian  with  my  feet,  so  that 
no  chance  might  be  left  for  those  from  whom  I had  escaped  to  over- 
take me. 

“It  is  now  nearly  twenty  years  since  this  happened,  and  more  than 
five  since  I left  the  whites’  settlements,  which  I might  probably 
never  have  visited  again,  had  I not  been  called  on  as  a witness  in  a 
law-suit  that  was  pending  in  Kentucky,  and  which  I really  believe 
would  never  have  been  settled  had  I not  come  forward  and  established 
the  beginning  of  a certain  boundary  line.  This  is  the  story,  sir: 

Mr. moved  from  old  Virginia  into  Kentucky,  -and  having  a 

large  tract  granted  to  him  in  the  new  State,  laid  claim  to  a certain 
parcel  of  land  adjoining  Green  River,  and  as  chance  would  have  it, 
took  for  one  of  his  corners  the  very  ash  tree  on  which  I had  made 
my  mark,  and  finished  his  survey  of  several  thousands  of  acres  begin- 
ning, as  it  is  expressed  in  the  deed,  ‘at  an  ash  marked  by  three  dis  - 
tinct notches  of  the  tomahawk  of  a white  man.’ 

“The  tree  had  grown  much,  and  the  bark  had  covered  the  marks, 

but  somehow  or  other  Mr. heard  from  some  one  all  that  I have 

already  said  to  you,  and  thinking  that  I might  remember  the  spot 
alluded  to  in  the  deed,  but  which  was  no  longer  discoverable,  wrote 
for  me  to  come,  and  try  at  least  to  find  the  tree  or  the  place.  His 
letter  mentioned  that  all  of  my  expenses  would  be  paid,  and  not 
caring  much  about  once  more  going  back  to  Kentucky,  I started  and 

met  Mr. . After  some  conversation,  the  affair  with  the  Indians 

came  to  my  recollection.  I considered  for  a while,  and  began  to 
think  that,  after  all,  I could  find  the  very  spot  as  well  as  the  tree,  if 
it  was  yet  standing. 

“Mr. and  I mounted  our  horses,  and  off  we  went  to  the  Green 

River  bottoms.  After  some  difficulties — for  you  must  be  aware,  sir, 
that  great  changes  have  taken  place  in  these  woods — I found  at  last 
the  spot  where  I had  crossed  the  river,  and  waiting  for  the  moon  to 
rise,  made  for  the  course  in  which  I thought  the  ash  tree  grew.  On 
approaching  the  place,  I felt  as  if  the  Indians  were  still  there  and  as 

if  I were  still  a prisoner  amongst  them.  Mr. and  I camped  near 

what  I conceived  the  spot,  and  waited  until  the  return  of  day. 

“At  the  rising  of  the  sun  I was  on  foot,  and  after  a good  deal  of 
musing,  thought  that  an  ash  tree,  then  in  sight,  must  be  the  very  one 
on  which  I had  made  my  mark.  I felt  as  if  there  could  be  no  doubt 


108 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


of  it,  and  mentioned  my  thoughts  to  Mr. . ‘Well,  Col.  Boone, 

said  he,  ‘if  you  think  so,  I hope  it  may  prove  true,  but  we  must 
have  some  witnesses;  you  stay  here  about,  and  I will  go  and  bring 

some  of  the  settlers  whom  I know/  I agreed.  Mr. trotted  off, 

and  I,  to  pass  the  time,  rambled  about  to  see  if  a deer  was  still  liv- 
ing in  the  land.  But,  ah  sir,  what  a wonderful  difference  thirty 
years  make  in  the  country.  Why  at  the  time  when  I was  caught  by 
the  Indians,  you  could  not  have  walked  out  in  any  direction  for  more 
than  a mile  without  shooting  a buck  or  a bear.  There  were  then 
thousands  of  buffaloes  on  the  hills  in  Kentucky;  the  land  looked  as 
if  it  would  never  become  poor,  and  to  hunt  in  those  days  was  a plea- 
sure indeed.  But  when  I was  left  to  myself  on  the  banks  of  Green 
River,  I dare  say  for  the  last  time  in  my  life,  a few  signs  only 
of  deer  were  to  be  seen,  and  as  to  a deer  itself,  I saw  none. 

‘ ‘Mr. returned,  accompanied  by  these  gentlemen.  They  looked 

upon  me  as  if  I had  been  Washington  himself,  and  walked  to  the 
ash  tree,  which  I now  called  my  own,  as  if  in  quest  of  a long  lost 
treasure.  I took  an  axe  from  one  of  them  and  cut  a few  chips  off 
of  the  bark.  Still  no  signs  were  to  be  seen;  so  I cut  again  until  I 
thought  it  was  time  to  be  cautious,  and  I scraped  and  worked  away 
with  my  butcher  knife  until  I did  come  to  where  my  tomahawk  had 
left  an  impression  in  the  wood.  We  now  went  regularly  to  work, 
and  scraped  at  the  tree  with  care  until  three  hacks,  as  plain  as  any 

three  notches  ever  were,  could  be  seen.  Mr.- and  the  other 

gentlemen  were  astonished,  and  I must  allow  I was  as  much  sur- 
prised as  pleased  myself.  I made  affidavit  of  this  remarkable 

occurrence  in  presence  of  these  gentlemen.  Mr. gained  his 

cause.  I left  Green  River  forever,  and  came  to  where  we  now  are; 
and,  sir,  I wish  you  a good  night.” 

The  few  debts  which  Boone  left  behind  him  in  Kentucky,  were 
paid  by  the  noble  old  man  out  of  the  proceeds  of  the  sales  of  the 
furs  he  trapped  in  Missouri.  Going  back  to  Kentucky,  he  went  to 
each  creditor,  asked  him  the  amount  of  his  debt,  and  without  asking 
further  evidence,  save  the  man’s  word,  promptly  paid  it.  Return- 
ing to  Missouri,  a number  of  his  friends  gathered  to  congratulate  him 
on  his  safe  voyage,  and  to  these  he  said:  “Now  I am  ready  and 
willing  to  die.  I am  relieved  from  a burden  that  has  long  oppressed 
me.  I have  paid  all  of  my  debts,  and  no  one  will  say,  when  I am 
gone,  ‘Boone  was  a dishonest  man.’  I am  perfectly  willing  to  die.” 


LAST  DAYS  OF  BOONE. 


100 


This  anecdote  is  given  on  the  authority  of  Peck,  and  is  doubtless 
authentic. 

When  the  Virginia  Legislature  established  its  commission  to  settle 
Kentucky  land  claims,  Boone  disposed  of  what  property  he  had 
accumulated,  to  invest  in  land  warrants.  Of  this  money — about 
twenty  thousand  dollars — together  with  other  large  sums  intrusted 
to  him  by  friends,  Boone  was  robbed,  while  on  his  way  from  Ken- 
tucky to  Richmond.  Heavy  as  was  his  own  loss,  it  did  not  weigh  as 
a feather  in  his  estimation,  compared  to  the  losses  of  his  friends. 
So  highly  did  these  friends  esteem  his  integrity,  that  but  little  was 
ever  said  of  the  affair;  but  that  there  was  some  unfavorable  com- 
ment, is  proven  by  the  following  extract  from  a letter,  written  at  the 
time  by  Col.  Thomas  Hart  to  his  brother,  Captain  Nathaniel  Hart, 
both  of  whom  had  lost  large  sums  by  this  misfortune  of  the  old 
pioneer: 

“I  observe  what  you  say  respecting  our  losses  by  Daniel  Boone. 
I had  heard  of  the  misfortune  soon  after  it  happened,  but  not  of  my 
being  partaker  before  now.  I feel  for  the  poor  people  who,  per- 
haps, are  to  lose  even  their  pre-emptions,  but  I must  say,  I feel 
more  for  Boone,  whose  character,  I am  told,  suffers  by  it.  Much 
degenerated  must  the  people  of  this  age  be,  when  amongst  them  are 
to  be  found  men  to  censure  and  blast  the  reputation  of  a pioneer  so 
just  and  upright,  and  in  whose  heart  is  a seat  of  virtue  too  pure  to 
admit  of  a thought  so  base  and  dishonorable , I have  known  Boone 
in  times  of  old,  when  poverty  and  distress  had  him  fast  by  the  hand, 
and  in  these  wretched  circumstances  I have  ever  found  him  of  a 
noble  and  generous  soul,  despising  everything  mean,  and,  therefore, 
I will  freely  grant  him  a discharge  for  whatever  sums  of  mine  he 
might  have  been  possessed  at  the  time.”  Truly  a most  noble  tribute 
from  a noble  man. 

During  his  hunting  excursions  in  Missouri,  Boone  was  often  sub- 
jected to  danger  from  the  Indians.  On  these  excursions  it  is  said 
that  he  was  usually  accompanied  only  by  a negro  boy,  and  on  one 
of  them  he  was  attacked  by  the  Osages,  when  he  had  no  other 
assistance.  The  Indians  greatly  outnumbered  them,  but  the  old 
veteran  experienced  no  difficulty  in  causing  them  to  retreat  with 
some  loss. 

To  show  how  calmly  he  looked  on  the  approach  of  death,  it  is 
told  that  on  one  occasion  he  was  taken  seriously  ill  while  on  a camp 


110 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


hunt,  accompanied  by  his  faithful  servant.  Using  only  the  simple 
medicaments  of  the  woods,  that  he  had  learned  in  his  intercourse 
with  the  Indians,  and  from  his  own  experience  of  their  effect,  he 
soon  recovered.  No  sooner,  however,  was  he  able  to  leave  his 
couch  of  skins,  than,  fearing  a relapse,  he  gave  his  negro  thorough 
directions  as  to  the  place  he  wished  to  be  buried,  and  also  what  dis- 
position he  wished  made  of  his  furs,  rifle,  etc. 

Once,  while  out  on  one  of  these  hunts,  a large  number  of  Indians 
selected  the  same  neighborhood  for  the  same  purpose,  and  for  the 
space  of  twenty  days  he  was  compelled  to  use  the  utmost  caution, 


HOUSE  IN  MONTGOMERY  COUNTY,  MO.,  IN  WHICH  BOONE  DIED. 


keeping  himself  secreted  all  the  time,  and  being  able  to  cook  his  food 
only  late  at  night,  when  the  Indians  were  sound  asleep. 

When  Louisiana  was  ceded  to  the  United  States,  Boone — to  whom 
the  Spanish  Government  had  given  ten  thousand  arpents  of  land  for 
his  military  and  civil  services — lost  his  possessions  through  the  cold 
formalities  of  the  American  laws ; finding  his  countrymen  less  grate- 
ful and  generous  than  strangers.  Petitioning  Congress,  in  1812,  for 
a restoration  of  his  lands,  his  petition  was  indorsed  by  the  Legisla- 
ture of  Kentucky,  but  after  due  deliberation  and  finding  that  he  was 
most  certainly  entitled  to  eleven  thousand  arpents  of  land,  Congres.? 


LAST  DAYS  OF  BOONE. 


Ill 


allowed  to  Boone  one  thousand  arpents — just  what  every  settler  was 
entitled  to. 

This  parsimony  toward  a poor,  old  man — who  had  given  to  the 
Union  one  of  her  proudest  States — is  in  marked  contrast  to  the  prod- 
igality, which  has  since  thrown  away,  with  reckless  profusion  to 
lobbying  railways,  tracts  of  territory  richer  than  European  duke- 
doms and  principalities.  The  remainder  of  Boone’s  life  was  spent 
in  obscurity. 

His  wife,  who  had  so  long  accompanied  him  upon  life’s  weary 
and  uncertain  road,  died  in  1813,  and  for  seven  years  he  journeyed 
alone  toward  the  “Valley  of  the  Shadow.”  At  last,  on  the  26th  day. 
of  September,  1820,  the  once  strong  frame  of  the  grand  old  hero — 
now  wasted  by  the  accumulated  infirmities  of  age  and  sickness — was 
composed  to  its  last  sleep.  For  him  the  patient  struggle  against 
injustice  was  over;  he  had  exchanged  human  law  for  God’s  equity, 
and  the  brave  and  noble  soul  was  at  rest.  The  Legislature  of  Mis- 
souri adjourned  for  one  day,  and  adopted  a badge  of  mourning  for 
thirty  days,  and  on  August  20th,  1845,  his  bones  and  those  of  his 
wife  were  taken  to  Frankfort,  Kentucky,  by  its  people,  and  interred 
with  august  ceremonies — thus  doing  to  his  memory  a tardy  justice, 
which  the  State  denied  to  the  man,  and  honoring  themselves  in  glori- 
fying him. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


SIMON  KENTON. 


A WONDERFUL  LIFE DATE  OF  BIRTH HIS  EDUCATION A LOVE  AFFAIR 

A RIVAL TERRIBLY  IN  EARNEST A BATTLE FOUL  PLAY 

KENTON  WORSTED BIDES  HIS  TIME A SECOND  DUEL HIS  RIVAL 

LEFT  FOR  DEAD HIS  FLIGHT THE  BRAND  OF  CAIN FINDS  A 

COMPANION JOINS  AN  EXPLORING  PARTY GOES  DOWN  THE  MONONGA- 

HELA MEETS  STRADER  AND  YEAGER YEAGER’S  TALES  OF  KAN- 

TUCK-EE CHARACTER  OF  KENTON IN  SEARCH  OF  ELDORADO 

A FUTILE  VOYAGE RETURN ATTACKED  BY  INDIANS TERRIBLE 

SUFFERINGS VOYAGE  DOWN  THE  OHIO ABANDON  THE  CANOES A 

SECOND  JONAH KENTON  FEARS  TO  ENTER  VIRGINIA CRESAP’S 

INFAMY THE  PARADISE  FOUND VISIT  TO  BLUE  LICKS SETTLES  IN 

KENTUCKY FINDS  TWO  WHITE  MEN ONE  RETURNS  TO  THE  SETTLE- 
MENTS  HORRIBLE  FATE  OF  THE  OTHER. 


The  brilliant  mind  and  active  fancy  of  the  Bard  of  Avon  never 
imagined  so  strange  a “Comedy  of  Errors”  as  the  simple  recital 
of  the  career  of  this  man.  From  his  first  plunge  into  the  sad  reali- 
ties of  life,  we  find  him  the  sport  of  circumstances,  tossed  like  some 
compassless  bark  upon  fortune’s  waves,  to  drive  upon  the  rocks,  or 
drift  into,  harbor,  as  fate  might  decree.  His  whole  life  reads  more 
like  an  unsubstantial  fiction  than  a cold  portrayal  of  actual  occur- 
rences, and  it  is  rendered  the  more  wonderful  by  the  knowledge 
that  not  more  than  one  event  in  five  has  been  handed  down,  so  as  to 
reach  us. 

His  natal  year  was  one  of  more  sorrow  than  joy;  his  birth-day 
being  the  15th  of  May,  1755,  the  year  when  Braddock’s  terrible 
defeat  cast  such  a gloom  over  the  entire  State  of  Virginia.  Born  in 
Fauquier  County,  in  that  State,  his  parentage  was  obscure,  and  his 
education  was  fully  as  limited  as  that  of  Daniel  Boone.  The  tale  that 
he  was  unable  to  read  or  write,  is  false,  though  almost  universally 
believed,  the  writer  having  seen  documents  bearing  his  signature  in 
a fair  hand.  Seeming,  from  his  meager  attainments  and  his  obscure 
situation,  born  for  a life  of  farm  drudgery,  when  he  had  attained 
his  sixteenth  year,  fate  opened  up  to  him  a wider  path  in  life. 

Obscure  and  ignorant  as  was  the  rude,  unlettered  boy,  yet  his 
heart  was  not  proof  against  the  assaults  of  beauty,  and  we  find  him 

112 


SIMON  KENTON. 


113 


at  the  age  of  sixteen  madly  in  love,  and  more  than  usually  well  sup- 
plied with  rivals,  his  inamorata  being  the  belle  of  the  neighborhood. 
Young  as  he  was,  and  poorly  as  we  may  suppose  that  he  was  supplied 
with  this  world’s  goods,  yet  our  hero  had  certainly  won  second  place 
in  the  race  for  beauty’s  approbation,  but — if  we  are  to  judge  from 
after  events — a stalwart  farmer,  named  Yeitch,  stood  at  the  head  of 
the  list.  What  Kenton,  at  so  immature  an  age,  wanted  with  a wife 
somewhat  puzzles  us,  but  it  may  be  that  he  claimed  a privilege  we 
once  heard  asserted  that  “one  man  has  as  much  right  to  starve 
a woman  to  death  as  another.” 

Be  this  as  it  may,  Kenton  was  terribly  in  earnest  in  tendering  his 
devotion,  and  as  he  and  Yeitch  each  felt  that  “one  world  was  all 


SIMON  KENTON  AT  THE  AGE  OF  76. 


too  narrow  for  them  both,”  a collision  occurred,  in  which,  through 
the  interference  of  Yeitch’ s friends,  the  boy  received  an  unmerciful 
drubbing.  Whether  this  “cooled  off  the  frenzy  in  his  blood,”  so 
far  as  his  love  was  concerned,  we  are  not  told,  but  if  it  did,  his  heart 
was  certainly  none  the  lighter,  for  it  now  carried  a burning  desire 
for  revenge.  Smothering  his  animosity  beneath  an  appearance  of 
composure,  Kenton  waited  until  the  next  year,  when,  having  attained 
to  a height  of  six  feet  and  an  uncommon  degree  of  activity,  he  chal- 
lenged his  more  mature  rival  to  a combat. 

Yeitch,  himself  a man  of  more  than  ordinary  strength,  was  noth- 
ing loth,  and  together  they  repaired  to  a convenient  spot,  where,  with- 
out spectators,  they  determined  to  see  who  was  the  better  man. 


114 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


When  they  had  stripped  for  the  combat,  there  was  little  to  choose 
between  the  men,  so  far  as  physical  appearance  went,  for  the  swell- 
ing muscles  and  iron  frames  of  each  spoke  equally  of  strength  and 
endurance.  Some  might  have  wagered  that  the  lad  would  go  down 
before  Veitch’s  more  matured  physique,  but  the  close  student  of 
human  nature  would  have  detected  in  the  gleam  from  Kenton  s eye 
the  indication  of  a soul  to  which  defeat  could  never  come,  save  in  the 
guise  of  death. 

The  battle,  which  immediately  began,  raged  with  all  the  fury  that 
mutual  hate,  jealousy  and  taunts  could  lend  to  it,  and  after  a long, 
fierce  round,  in  which  victory  remained  doubtful,  Kenton  went  down 
before  his  brawny  antagonist.  Down,  but  not  defeated,  Kenton 
endured  with  equanimity  the  blows  and  kicks  he  could  not  avoid, 
and  without  a thought  of  surrender  bided  his  chance.  Fortune, 
who  had  cheated  him  of  his  sweetheart,  was  about  to  make  amends. 
Veitch’s  hair,  after  the  manner  of  the  rustic  beaux  of  that  day,  was 
worn  long,  and  Kenton,  in  the  intervals  between  kicks,  evolved  a 
scheme  that  he  thought  would  give  him  the  victory.  It  was  to  wrap 
the  Absalom-like  locks  of  his  rival  around  a sapling  growing  near, 
and  finish  him  at  leisure. 

Making  one  final  effort,  and  eking  out  his  failing  strength  with 
the  fury  of  his  determination,  he  effected  his  stratagem,  and  Veitch, 
in  spite  of  his  struggles,  was  at  his  mercy.  Now  was  the  time  to 
avenge  all  his  former  injuries,  and  to  return  upon  his  enemy  the 
taunts  and  blows  under  which  he  had  for  a year  been  fretting. 
Day  and  night  he  had  waited  for  this  revenge,  and  the  delay  had 
whetted  his  anger  to  such  a pitch  that  before  he  fully  realized  the 
extent  of  his  fury,  Yeitch  was  gasping  as  though  in  the  agonies  of 
death.  This  was  more  than  he  had  bargained  for,  and  after  a 
remorseful  glance  at  his  now  insensible  victim,  he  turned  from  the 
spot,  and,  with  the  speed  of  the  deer,  fled  into  the  wilderness. 

Never  doubting  but  that  he  was  a murderer,  Kenton  sped  on  until 
he  had  reached  the  limits  of  the  settlements,  before  he  felt  safe  from 
the  hue  and  cry  which  he  was  sure  would  succeed  to  the  discovery 
of  his  rival’s  body.  For  months  afterward  any  allusion  to  Virginia 
called  up  to  Kenton’s  mind  the  scene  of  his  duel,  and  the  corpse  of 
Yeitch  lying  in  the  lonely  wood,  its  longhair  wound  around  the  fatal 
tree.  It  was  not  until  long  years  after  that  this  nightmare  was  to 
be  lifted  from  his  mind,  and  revisiting  the  scenes  of  his  childhood, 


SIMON  KENTON. 


115 


he  found  Veitch  the  father  of  an  interesting  family,  and  his  wife — the 
former  belle — a matron  of  quite  comfortable  avoirdupois. 

The  supposed  murder  had  turned  out  the  first  of  the  many  shrewish 
tricks  that  Fortune  yet  had  in  store  for  him,  and  his  delight  at 
finding  that  he  did  not  bear  the  brand  of  Cain  was  so  great  that  he 


YOUNG  KENTON’S  TRIUMPH  OVER  HIS  RIVAL. 


at  once  began  a friendship  with  his  former  rival  that  lasted  until  his 
death.  History  does  not  tell  us  how  much  the  fading  looks  and 
increasing  girth  of  madame  had  to  do  with  his  reconciliation  to  his 
fate,  and  we  leave  that  for  the  reader  to  guess. 

At  the  verge  of  the  wilderness  he  met  a traveler  from  New 
Jersey,  named  Johnson,  and  uniting  their  fortunes,  they  journeyed 


116  CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

together,  until  the  latter  reached  his  destination,  on  Cheat  River. 
He  needed  a friend,  and  Fortune — determined  never  to  let  him  get  to 
the  lowest  depths — had  thrown  Johnson,  his  pack-horse  and  his  small 
store  of  necessaries  in  his  way.  Johnson’s  after-path  in  life  is 
unknown,  and  he  is  remembered  only  from  having  aided  a brave 
and  unfortunate  man ; but  Kenton — or  as  he  had  renamed  himself, 
Butler — joined  a small  company  of  explorers,  which  had  been  organ- 
ized by  Greathouse  and  Mahon. 

Building  a large  canoe,  they  voyaged  down  the  Monongahela,  until 
they  reached  Provines’  or  Province’s  settlements,  and  here  Kenton 
met  with  Strader  and  Yeager,  the  latter  of  whom  gave  our  hero 
his  first  information  of  a wonderful  country  down  the  Ohio  River, 
which  the  Indians  visited  for  the  purpose  of  hunting,  and  to  which 
they  had  given  the  name  of  Kan-tuck-ee.  Yeager  had  been  taken  by 
the  Indians  when  but  a child,  and  had  afterwards  roamed  over  this 
country  with  their  hunting  parties,  and  his  descriptions  of  its  beauty 
and  fertility  vied  with  those  which  Findley  poured  into  the  willing 
ear  of  Boone. 

At  this  time,  young  as  he  was,  Kenton  had  attained  his  full  size, 
and  as  no  description  has  ever  been  given  in  any  of  his  numerous 
biographies,  one  may  not  come  amiss.  His  frame  was  of  the  order 
denominated  as  “raw-boned,”  that  is,  without  superfluous  flesh. 
His  size  approached  the  gigantic,  being  six  feet  one  inch  in  height 
and  broadly  built.  His  weight  was  never  under  one  hundred  and 
ninety  pounds  and  his  strength  was  enormous.  His  complexion  was 
light  and  his  disposition  amiable,  but,  when  aroused,  his  eyes  flashed 
like  fire,  and  the  whole  countenance  of  the  man  underwent  a change 
terrible  to  the  beholder. 

Lacking  the  deep-seated  purpose  of  Boone,  we  find  him  fully  the 
equal  of  the  latter  in  courage  and  fortitude.  In  his  moral  and  intel- 
lectual nature  he  was,  without  doubt,  inferior  to  Boone,  and  yet  a 
grade  above  Wetzel,  and,  of  course,  his  weight  and  influence  would  not 
compare  with  that  of  the  “father  of  Kentucky.”  Even  the  Indians 
seemed  intuitively  to  recognize  this  inferiority,  hence  Blackfish’s 
question:  “Did  Captain  Boone  tell  you  to  steal  our  horses?” 
Brave,  hardy,  patient,  and  willing  to  undergo  any  risks  for  his  peo- 
ple, yet  the  infant  colony  could  have  better  spared  a hundred  Ken- 
tons than  the  moral  weight,  patient  vigilance  and  indomitable  deter- 
mination of  Boone. 


SIMON  KENTON. 


117 


This  paradise  to  which  Yeager  proposed  to  conduct  Kenton,  if 
the  latter  was  desirous  of  seeing  it,  was  not  only  the  loveliest  that  a 
beneficent  Creator  had  ever  given  to  his  creatures,  but  its  soil  was 
the  most  fertile  ever  seen  by  man,  while  over  its  vast  plains  and 
grassy  valleys  the  deer,  elk  and  buffalo  wandered  in  countless  thou- 
sands, and  its  forests  were  filled  with  bear,  turkey  and  smaller  game. 
Yeager  was  confident  that  he  could  find  the  country,  and  his  comrade 
and  Kenton,  being  anxious  to  visit  it,  a canoe  was  quickly  built,  and 
they  started  down  the  Ohio  in  search  of  the  new  Eldorado. 

Down  the  placid  waters  of  the  beautiful  river  they  drifted  for 
many  weary  days,  but,  like  Poe’s  wanderer, 

“O’er  their  hearts  a shadow 
Fell,  as  they  found  no  spot  of  ground 
That  looked  like  Eldorado 

and  the  others  were  not  slow  in  expressing  to  Yeager  their  doubts  as 
to  this  somewhat  mythical  region.  With  all  the  persistency  of 
truth,  Yeager  stuck  to  his  story,  and  at  last  insisted  that  they  must 
have  run  by  it  in  the  night,  and  convinced  by  his  earnestness,  they 
started  to  return,  examining  the  country  as  they  went,  and  finally 
settled  on  the  Big  Kanawha,  for  the  purpose  of  hunting  and  trapping, 
without  having  obtained  a glimpse  of  the  “promised  land.”  Here 
they  remained  for  nearly  two  years,  and  here  they  were  attacked,  in 
March,  1773,  by  the  Indians,  and  Strader  killed.  Flying  for  their 
lives,  Kenton  and  Yeager  escaped  with  great  difficulty,  having  to 
abandon  to  their  enemies  everything  except  the  clothing  they 
had  on. 

After  five  days  of  the  greatest  hardships,  and  untold  agonies  from 
cold  and  hunger,  they  reached  the  Ohio,  finding  there  a party  of 
traders.  Returning  with  these  men  to  the  Little  Kanawha,  Kenton 
obtained  a rifle  and  ammunition,  and  again  set  out  to  try  the  fortunes 
of  the  forest.  In  the  early  fall  he  joined  a party  going  down  the 
Ohio  in  canoes.  At  Three  Islands  they  were  alarmed  at  a large  num- 
ber of  Indians,  and  plunging  into  the  timber,  Kenton  and  his  com- 
panions abandoned  their  canoes  to  the  enemy,  and  made  their  way 
with  great  difficulty  to  Virginia. 

That  Kenton  was  not  the  only  Jonah  in  the  party  may  be  infer- 
red from  the  fact  that  they  were  obliged,  in  the  midst  of  their  per- 
ils, to  wait  fourteen  days  for  Dr.  Wood  to  recover  from  a bite  of  a 
copperhead  snake.  On  the  borders  of  Virginia,  there  was  a general 


118 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


breaking  up  of  the  party,  and  Kenton,  who  did  not  care  to  venture 
into  his  native  State,  determined  to  brave  again  the  uncertainties  of 
the  forest,  and  building  a canoe,  descended  once  more  to  the  Big 
Kanawha,  where  he  hunted  and  trapped,  until  the  spring  of  1774. 

Cresap’s  murder  of  Logan’s  defenseless  family  united  that  mag- 
nanimous chieftain  in  a league  with  other  eminent  warriors,  and 
brought  on  the  war  known  as  Dunmore’s  war.  Throughout  this 


KENTON  RESCUING  BOONE. 


war  Kenton’s  services  as  an  outlying  scout  or  spy  proved  of  great 
value  to  the  whites,  and  after  the  disbanding  of  the  troops,  brought 
about  by  their  great  victory  over  the  Indians,  he  determined  to  set 
out  once  more  in  search  of  the  country  described  by  Yeager.  Tak- 
ing two  friends  with  him,  they  started  off  in  a canoe,  and  after 
quite  an  extended  trip  down  the  Ohio,  they  made  their  way  to  the 
Lower  Blue  Lick,  where  immense  herds  of  buffalo  and  numbers  of 


I 


i 


SIMON  KENTON.  110 

elk  were  found.  The  beauty  of  the  country  through  which  they 
had  passed,  and  the  great  plenty  of  game,  convinced  them  that  at 
last  they  had  found  “Yeager’s  paradise,”  as  they  denominated  the 
object  of  their  search. 

Penetrating  the  country  in  every  direction,  they  visited  the  Upper 
Blue  Lick  also,  and  built  a cabin  on  the  present  site  of  Washington, 
making  a small  clearing  and  planting  corn.  Thus,  even  in  the  breasts 
of  the  hunters  of  that  age,  we  find  the  spirit  of  a permanent  settle- 
ment firmly  implanted,  and,  working  toward  each  other  from  differ- 
ent directions,  we  discover  the  rude  but  efficient  agents  of  a civili- 
zation that  was  destined  to  crush  the  barbarism  of  the  Indian 
between  its  upper  and  nether  mill-stones. 

On  one  of  their  excursions  to  the  Lower  Blue  Lick,  they  found 
two  white  men,  who  had  lost  their  arms  and  other  effects  by  the 
capsizing  of  their  canoe  in  the  Ohio.  One  of  them,  Hendricks, 
remained  with  them,  but  the  other,  Fitzpatrick,  frankly  confessed 
that  he  was  not  of  the  stuff  of  which  pioneers  are  made,  and  being 
furnished  by  them  with  a rifle,  they  took  him  across  the  river,  and 
it  is  to  be  hoped  that  he  reached  the  settlements  in  safety.  While 
they  had  accompanied  his  companion  to  the  river,  Hendricks  had 
been  left  at  the  cabin  to  recuperate,  and  in  their  absence  it  was 
raided  by  the  savages,  and  Hendricks  carried  off  a prisoner. 

Returning,  the  disordered  state  of  the  cabin  told  the  tale  of  Indian 
outrage  plainly  enough,  and  seeing,  at  a little  distance,  the  smoke  of 
a camp  fire,  they  became  panic  stricken  and  fled  with  all  haste  from 
the  scene,  without  making  a single  effort  to  ascertain  Hendricks’ 
fate,  or  the  number  of  those  who  had  captured  him.  This  was  ever 
a source  of  regret  to  Kenton,  for,  venturing  back  late  the  next  day, 
they  visited  the  camp-fire  and  there  found  the  charred  bones  of  poor 
Hendricks,  who  might  have  been  rescued  had  timely  effort  been 
made. 


I 


CHAPTER  X. 


A TERRIBLE  EXPERIENCE. 


KENTON’S  RASH  BRAVERY A WONDERFUL  ADVENTURE NARROW  ESCAPE 

A FRESH  SCALP KENTON  REMAINS  IN  THE  INDIAN  COUNTRY THE 

CAPTURED  HORSES ESCAPE REACH  LOGAN’S  FORT A SECOND  EXPE- 
DITION  TOO  GREAT  TEMPTATION A SLOW  PURSUIT ATTEMPT  TO 

SWIM  THE  OHIO FRIGHTENED  HORSES THE  STORM A DAY  AND 

NIGHT  LOST THE  HEIGHT  OF  FOLLY UNPARALLELED  RASHNESS 

THEIR  GOOD  GENIUS  WEARIED LOVE  OF  HORSEFLESH CAPTURE  OF 

KENTON DEATH  OF  MONTGOMERY CLARK  ESCAPES BLACKFISH’S 

QUESTION ABUSE TORMENTED  BY  THE  SAVAGES THE  RENEGADE’S 

REPLY RUNS  THE  GAUNTLET RESOLVES  TO  ESCAPE TOO  LATE 

HALTERED MEETS  SIMON  GIRTY BRUTAL  TREATMENT “WHAT’S  IN  A 

NAME.” 


Kenton — who  had  left  his  settlement  and  taken  up  quarters  at  Boons- 
borough — was,  with  Boone  and  others,  attached  to  Clarke’s  army  of 
invasion,  that  destroyed  the  towns  and  crops  of  the  savages,  in  retalia- 
tion for  their  incursions  into  Kentucky.  Acting  as  a scout,  Ken- 
ton’s bravery  and  rashness  forced  him  into  many  dangerous  situa- 
tions, and  some  of  his  escapes  were  truly  wonderful.  The  foot-ball 
of  fate,  Fortune  seemed  never  to  weary  in  her  efforts  to  amuse  her- 
self at  his  expense.  Seeing  Indian  sign  in  the  trail  one  day,  he  was 
just  about  to  explore  a heavy  thicket  to  which  it  led,  when  he  heard 
sounds  of  boisterous  merriment  issuing  from  it. 

Quickly  secreting  himself,  he  saw  two  burly  Indians  emerge  from 
it,  riding  one  pony  and  evidently  excessively  amused  at  the  situa- 
tion, which  the  pony  did  not  seem  to  greatly  relish.  Aiming  full 
at  the  breast  of  the  foremost  rider,  he  was  pleased  to  see  both  fall, 
one  dead,  the  other  badly  wounded.  Laughing  now  in  turn — as  if 
he  did  not  realize  that  Fortune,  of  course,  intended  to  make  him  pay 
for  such  an  extra  stroke  of  luck — he  darted  forward  to  scalp  the 
one  and  tomahawk  the  other. 

While  the  the  latter  was  making  considerable  objection  to  this 
operation,  he  heard  a noise  close  at  hand,  and  looking  up,  saw  within 
twenty  yards  of  him  two  Indians  taking  aim.  Springing  like  a flash 
to  one  side,  the  two  bullets  whistled  harmlessly  by  him,  but  fearing 
that  others  were  near,  he  bounded  rapidly  to  cover.  At  the  moment 

120 


A TERRIBLE  EXPERIENCE. 


121 


he  reached  shelter  a dozen  savages  rushed  into  view  and  would  have 
pressed  him  closely,  had  not  Boone  and  some  others  appeared  on 
the  scene,  and  by  a rapid  tire  driven  off  the  Indians.  Owing  to  the 
hurry  of  their  retreat,  the  dead  Indian  was  left  on  the  field,  and  was 
promptly  scalped  by  Kenton. 

When  Boone  returned  from  this  expedition  in  such  haste  to  reach 
Boonsborough,  Kenton  and  a friend  named  Montgomery,  remained 
behind,  in  order  to  see  if  they  could  not  inflict  greater  injury  upon 
the  enemy,  but,  after  waiting  patiently  near  the  village  for  one  day, 
they  found  the  men  all  gone,  and  despairing  of  killing  any  of  the 
warriors,  they  went  into  the  village  that  night  and  carried  off  the 
four  best  horses  they  could  find.  With  these  they  safely  escaped  to 
Logan’s  Fort ; Boonsborough  being  then  surrounded  by  a large  force 
of  Indians. 

A day  or  two  after  their  return,  Kenton  was  employed  by  Colonel 
Bowman  to  visit  an  Indian  town  on  the  Little  Miami,  which  he  was 
desirous  of  attacking,  could  he  obtain  full  information  of  its  loca- 
tion and  the  number  of  its  warriors.  Taking  with  him  Montgom- 
ery  and  another  man,  named  Clark,  they  penetrated  to  the  Indian 
town  in  perfect  safety  and  secrecy,  and  even  walked  through  its 
streets  and  examined  its  houses  without  being  discovered.  All  would 
now  have  gone  well,  had  it  not  been  that,  in  their  exploration,  they 
had  come  across  the  herd  of  horses  belonging  to  the  village. 

This  was  too  great  a temptation  to  men  who  used  every  opportu- 
nity to  despoil  their  enemies.  Taking  the  halters  they  found  near 
the  enclosure,  they  entered  and  began  to  halter  the  horses.  Some 
of  them,  alarmed  at  the  sight  of  white  men,  began  to  kick  and 
squeal,  and  in  other  ways  to  show  their  displeasure,  and  the  noise  at 
last  roused  their  masters.  Seeing  that  they  were  in  for  it,  Kenton 
and  his  companions  could  not  make  up  their  minds  to  give  up  a 
single  one  of  the  horses  they  had  had  so  much  trouble  in  haltering, 
and  two  of  them  riding  ahead  led  the  drove  while  one  following 
with  a whip  did  not  permit  them  to  lag. 

Their  boldness  so  confused  the  Indians  that  they  supposed  their 
enemies  to  be  in  force,  and  it  is  doubtful  if  they  were  followed  very 
far  that  night;  but,  had  former  misfortunes  taught  Kenton  any 
thing,  he  should  have  known  that  he  was  still  in  debt  to  luck  for  his 
last  success,  and  it  was  now  time  for  another  reverse.  Biding  all 
night,  they  attempted  to  swim  the  horses  across  the  Ohio  the  next 


122 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


SIMON  KENTON’S  MAZEPPA  RIDE. 


123 


A TERRIBLE  EXPERIENCE. 

morning,  but  a violent  wind-storm  prevailing,  they  were  unable  to 
do  so.  Baffled  in  repeated  attempts,  their  after-course  is  almost  a 
miracle  of  folly.  Instead  of  moving  up  or  down  the  river,  so  as  to 
preserve  the  start  they  had  gained  on  the  Indians,  they  sat  on  its 
banks,  waiting  for  the  waters  to  become  still.  The  day  was  lost  in 
this  proceeding,  and  at  night  the  waves  were  more  violent  than 
ever.  Losing  the  night  in  the  same  foolish  inaction,  they  found 
the  water  quiet  on  the  morrow,  but  could  not  force  the  thoroughly 

frightened  horses  into  it. 

© 

Wasting  valuable  time  in  useless  attempts,  they  at  last  determined 
to  mount  a horse  each  and  endeavor  to  reach  Louisville.  This  move 
might  have  proven  their  salvation,  but  it  will  be  scarcely  believed 
that,  once  mounted,  they  actually  determined  to  ride  back  and  make 
an  effort  to  collect  and  carry  off  the  scattered  horses. 

McClung,  says : “They  wearied  out  their  good  genius,  and  literally 
fell  victims  to  their  love  for  horseflesh.  They  had  scarcely  ridden 
one  hundred  yards,  (Kenton  in  the  center,  the  others  upon  the  flanks, 
with  an  interval  of  two  hundred  yards  between  them),  when  Kenton 
heard  a loud  hollo,  apparently  coming  from  the  spot  they  had  just 
left.” 

This  should  have  stimulated  them  to  the  swiftest  flight,  but, 
incredible  as  it  may  seem,  Kenton  actually  dismounted,  and  walked 
slowly  back  toward  the  sound.  Here  he  found  three  Indians  and 
one  white  man,  all  splendidly  mounted.  To  alarm  his  companions, 
he  raised  his  rifle  to  fire  and  it  flashed.  At  last,  when  it  was  use- 
less, he  turned  in  flight,  but  was  speedily  overtaken  and  captured. 

The  Indians  very  properly,  as  it  seems  to  us,  took  out  their  ram- 
rods and  belabored  him  well,  at  the  same  time  giving  him  their 
opinion  of  any  man  who  would  steal  a poor  innocent  Indian’s 
horse.  While  this  was  going  on,  Montgomery  appeared  and 
endeavored  to  discharge  his  rifle,  but,  like  Kenton’s,  the  powder 
had  become  wet.  Two  of  the  Indians  started  in  pursuit,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  the  report  of  two  rifles  was  heard,  then  the  scalp 
halloo,  and  they  shortly  returned  with  Montgomery’s  scalp.  Clark, 
after  hearing  the  first  hallo,  dashed  spurs  to  his  horse  and  escaped 
to  Louisville. 

On  the  return  to  the  village,  the  Indians  continually  beat  and 
abused  Kenton,  tying  him  at  one  time  upon  a horse  in  regular 
Mazeppa  style.  The  horse — the  wildest  they  could  select — dashed 


124 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


fiercely  through  the  wood  for  a short  distance,  and  then,  to  the  great 
disgust  of  the  Indians,  fell  into  the  ranks  and  jogged  soberly  along. 
Just  before  reaching  Chillicothe,  Blackfish,  one  of  their  principal 
chiefs,  came  up  to  Kenton,  and  in  a lordly  manner  thundered  out: 
“You’ve  been  stealing  our  horses.’’  “Yes,”  replied  Kenton.  “Did 
Captain  Boone  tell  you  to  do  it?  ” asked  Blackfish.  “No,”  answered 
Kenton,  “I  did  it  of  my  own  accord.”  At  this  honest  avowal  the 
chief  applied  a hickory  rod  to  Kenton’s  naked  shoulders  and  excori- 
ated him  terribly. 


KENTON  AND  THF  '^NEGADE  GIRTY. 


He  was  met  at  the  distance  of  **  mile  from  the  village  by  every 
man,  woman  and  child  in  it,  and  amidst  the  hooting  and  yelling  of 
the  howling  mob  of  savages,  some  one  suggested  the  burning  of  the 
prisoner.  This  was  welcomed  by  a general  yell  of  delight,  and 
while  the  fiendish  squaws  tore  the  tattered  remnants  of  clothes  from 
Kenton’s  body,  the  men  set  up  a stake  and  all  began  their  devil’s 
dance  around  him.  Kicked  and  beaten  with  sticks,  switches  and 
their  fists,  he  expected  every  moment  the  torture  of  fire. 


A TERRIBLE  EXPERIENCE. 


125 


however,  was  reserved  for  another  time,  and  about  midnight  he  was 
released  and  taken  to  their  village. 

The  next  morning  he  was  led  out  to  run  the  gauntlet — that  torture 
lesser  than  the  stake,  and  usually  preceding  it — and  stretched  on  a 
hoop,  he  saw  poor  Montgomery’s  scalp  drying  in  the  sun.  Escap- 
ing with  but  a few  blows  from  this  ordeal,  a council  was  held  to  find 
out  whether  they  should  burn  him  there,  or  take  him  around  to  each 
village  and  exhibit  him  before  treating  themselves  to  this  amusement. 
This  deliberation  resulted  in  the  order  that  he  should  be  taken  to  a 
village  (Waughcotomoco)  on  Mad  River,  and  there  be  tortured. 

Asking  of  a white  renegade  what  they  had  decided  to  do,  his  reply 
was:  4 ‘Burn  you,  G — d — you  ! ” Kenton  asked  no  more  ques- 
tions, and  being  clothed,  he  was  delighted  to  see  that  they  did  not 
intend  to  bind  him.  This  was  a boon  he  did  not  expect  of  fortune, 
and  he  determined  to  escape  or  die.  The  country  through  which 
they  were  passing  greatly  favored  such  an  attempt — the  timber  being 
full  of  undergrowth — and  if  he  failed,  it  would  not  affect  the 
result  in  the  slightest,  or  increase  the  pangs  of  death  by  fire. 

With  his  mind  fully  made  up,  Kenton  put  off  the  execution  of  his 
attempt  until  he  heard  a loud  hallooing  ahead  and  the  sound  of  a 
drum,  and  knew  they  were  approaching  another  village.  Stimulated 
at  last  by  the  thought  of  another  running  of  the  gauntlet,  if  not  the 
torture  of  the  stake,  Kenton  darted  into  the  brush,  and  with  the 
speed  of  the  wind,  soon  distanced  all  pursuit.  Had  this  been  done 
sooner  he  would  have  escaped  scot  free,  but  while  running  furiously 
away  from  those  behind  him,  he  burst  at  full  speed  into  a party 
coming  up  from  the  village  to  meet  them. 

A minute  before  he  had,  with  a glad  heart,  heard  the  sounds  of 
pursuit  die  out,  and  he  had  felt  himself  a free  man;  now  his  hopes 
were  again  dashed  to  earth.  Cruel  indeed  was  the  disappointment. 

Being  securely  haltered,  he  was  led  into  the  village  and  tied  at  the 
door  of  the  council  house,  as  a wild  beast  might  have  been,  subject 
to  all  the  abuse  and  blows  the  savages  saw  fit  to  bestow  upon  him. 
Luckily  for  him  he  was  not  compelled  to  run  the  gauntlet  here,  but 
was  taken  the  next  day  to  another  village,  where  he  was  forced  to 
go  through  that  ceremony,  and  was  severely  hurt. 

Another  council  was  here  held.  It  was  determined  to  burn  him  at 
this  village.  Just  before  this  council  the  two  Girtys,  James  Ward 


12G 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


and  an  Indian  entered  the  cabin  where  Kenton  sat,  bowed  down 
beneath  the  weight  of  his  misfortunes,  and  awaiting  a horrible  death. 
With  them  they  brought  several  scalps,  seven  children  and  a white 
woman.  Kenton  was  removed,  and  after  a long  deliberation,  he 
was  called  back  to  hear  the  announcement  of  his  doom.  This,  how- 
ever, was  an  unnecessary  formality,  as  their  scowling  faces  told  him 
plainly  enough  that  it  was  useless  to  cherish  hope. 

Girty,  throwing  an  old  blanket  on  the  floor,  ordered  Kenton  to  sit 
down,  and  not  complying  soon  enough,  hesiezed  him  roughly  by  the 
arm  and  jerked  him  down  upon  the  blanket.  Girty  next  asked  him 
the  number  of  whites  in  Kentucky.  To  this  he  replied  that  he  did 
not  know,  but  that  he  could  name  about  all  the  officers,  and  this  he 
proceeded  to  do  by  naming  every  man  in  the  State  who  had  a title, 
whether  the  commander  of  any  men  or  not.  This  was  done  to 
magnify,  in  the  eyes  of  the  savages,  the  number  of  the  Kentuckians, 
as  he  feared  they  might  contemplate  further  raids.  “Do  you  know 
William  Stewart?’’  next  asked  Girty.  “Perfectly,”  answered 
Kenton;  “he  is  an  old  friend.”  “What  is  your  name,”  now  asked 
Girty,  with  some  curiosity.  “Simon  Butler,”  was  the  reply;  and 
never  did  the  announcement  of  a mere  name  produce  so  great  an 
effect. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


FREAKS  OF  FORTUNE. 


GIRTY’S  SURPRISE AN  EARNEST  APPEAL BROTHERS-IN-ARMS EFFECT 

OF  GIRTY’S  ELOQUENCE THE  REPLY THE  VOTE REPRIEVE  OF  KEN- 
TON  A TIME  OF  REST THE  DISTRESS  HALLO WARM  FRIENDS  COOL- 

ING  THE  NEW  COUNCIL ANOTHER  TRIAL KENTON  CONDEMNED 

GIRTY’S  EFFORTS  IN  HIS  BEHALF THE  MARCH  TO  DEATH GIRTY’S  LAST 

ATTEMPT FAILURE ESCAPE  FROM  THE  GAUNTLET AN  IRATE  INDIAN 

A TERRIBLE  WOUND INDIAN  HUMANITY MEETING  WITH  LOGAN 

HIS  EFFORTS  TO  AID  KENTON A REMARKABLE  MAN OF  NO  AVAIL 

DRIVEN  TO  SANDUSKY THE  GOAL  OF  DEATH THE  STAKE  PREPARED 

ANOTHER  RESCUE TAKEN  TO  DETROIT. 

The  name  of  Butler  touched  a secret  chord  in  the  heart  of  the 
monster  Girty,  a chord  that  even  he  thought  had  years  since  ceased  to 
vibrate,  and  like  a flood  long  pent  up  his  emotions  burst  their  bounds, 
and  swept  away  the  brutal  cruelty  and  callous  indifference  of  the 
renegade.  Serving  together  as  spies  during  Dunmore’swar — before 
Girty  had  become  the  ally  of  the  savages  and  the  enemy  of  his  peo- 
ple— Kenton’s  bravery  and  sunny  good  nature  had  endeared  him  to 
the  renegade,  who,  in  the  midst  of  his  Indian  followers,  no  doubt 
often  turned  with  regret  to  those  days  of  happiness  and  innocence. 

The  effect  upon  the  savages  must  have  been  almost  magical  to 
thus  see  the  fierce  and  sullen  renegade  fly  to  the  man,  against  whom 
he  had  so  lately  exhibited  the  intensity  of  his  malice,  and  fold  him  in 
his  arms  like  a brother.  Turning  next  to  the  assembled  warriors, 
he  begged  for  the  life  of  the  prisoner,  who,  he  said,  was  endeared 
to  him  by  the  ties  of  a friendship  as  close  as  those  of  brotherhood. 
They  had  hunted  together  by  day  and  shared  the  same  blanket  at 
night ; the  wigwam  of  the  one  was  the  dwelling  place  of  the  other, 
and  their  joys  and  sorrows  had  been  in  common. 

Together  they  had  roamed  the  forests  like  brothers,  and  upon  the 
war-path  they  had  marched  side  by  side ; neither  had  known  a dan- 
ger that  the  other  had  not  shared,  and  now  he  begged  them,  if  his 
services  had  been  of  any  value  to  them,  not  to  refuse  him  the  life  of 
this  the  only  captive  he  had  ever  ^sked  of  them.  They  knew,  said 
he,  that  he  was  true  to  their  cause,  and  his  hands  were  as  deeply 

127 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


dyed  in  the  blood  of  the  hated  whites  as  those  of  any  warrior 
amongst  them,  and  now.  after  years  of  faithful  service,  would  they 
refuse  him  the  only  favor  he  had  ever  asked,  and  force  him  to  look 
upon  the  fierce  torture  and  terrible  agony  of  his  comrade,  done 
cruelly  to  death  by  them,  his  adopted  brothers? 


At  the  end  of  his  speech,  which  was  full  of  the  figures  that  strike  the 
imagination  of  the  red  man,  he  saw  that  he  had  made  an  impression 
upon  several  of  the  chiefs,,  while  others  evidently  did  not  favor  his 
request.  A young  warrior,  rising  to  reply,  said  that  the  fate  of  the 


FREAKS  OF  FORTUNE. 


129 


prisoner  had  been  settled  in  a full  and  solemn  council,  and  that  they 
would  be  deemed  squaws  could  they  be  thus  influenced  to  change  their 
minds  every  hour. 

For  his  part  he  was  sorry  that  it  happened  to  be  the  friend  of 
their  comrade,  Girty;  he  would  have  preferred  it  to  be  some  stranger 
to  him,  but  that  all  of  their  people  had  set  their  hearts  on  seeing  this 
white  man  burn,  and  what  a disappointment — if  not  an  absolute  cruelty 
— it  would  be  to  discommode  so  many  people  for  the  sake  of  one,  or  at 
most  two,  even  if  the  prisoner  had  any  feeling  in  the  matter,  though 
for  his  part  he  rather  believed,  from  the  white  man’s  actions,  that 
he  courted  such  an  honor  as  a fiery  death  at  the  hands  of  their  brave 
warriors. 

Girty’ s reply  was  filled  with  an  indignant  energy,  and  he  slyly 
interjected  into  it  threats  of  a retirement  from  their  councils  and  their 
war  parties,  if  they  refused  to  him  what  he  felt  sure  would  have 
been  quickly  granted  to  any  of  his  red-skinned  brothers.  At  the 
close  of  this  harangue,  a vote  was  taken,  by  passing  to  each  warrior 
a war  club.  Those  in  favor  of  the  stake  struck  the  ground  heav- 
ily with  the  club,  as  it  was  handed  to  them;  the  others  passed  it 
in  silence,  and  Girty  smiled  in  triumph  to  see  that  the  latter  were 
the  more  numerous,  and  Kenton,  who  had  entered  the  cabin  a 
doomed  man,  left  it  reprieved. 

For  fully  three  weeks  fortune  decreed  no  change  in  the  rest  and 
tranquility  that  fell  to  Kenton’s  lot,  who,  now  protected  by  Girty, 
enjoyed  perfect  freedom  in  everything  except  permission  to  leave 
the  village.  At  the  expiration  of  this  time  he,  Girty  and  an  Indian 
named  Red  Pole,  were  walking  together,  just  out  of  the  village, 
when  they  were  approached  by  another  Indian,  who  at  intervals 
uttered  a peculiar  cry.  Informed  by  Girty  that  it  was  the  distress 
hallo,  and  that  they  must  all  repair  to  the  council-house,  poor  Ken- 
ton’s heart  sank  within  him,  for  his  sad  experience  caused  him  to 
think  himself  the  especially  selected  victim  of  all  hallos  and  councils. 

The  conduct  of  the  approaching  Indian,  who  shook  hands  with 
Girty  and  Red  Pole,  but  refused  his  own,  convinced  him  fully  that 
he  was  in  trouble  once  more.  Upon  entering  the  council  chamber, 
he  offered  his  hand  to  several  of  the  Indians,  but  was  refused  by  all, 
and  dejectedly  took  a seat. 

Girty ’s  better  nature  had  been  thoroughly  aroused  by  the  com- 
panionship of  his  old-time  comrade,  and  Avith  burning  eloquence,  as 


130 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


though  pleading  for  his  own  life,  he  begged  for  Kenton’s  release, 
but  it  was  of  no  avail.  Aided  by  the  large  number  of  chiefs 
who  had  gathered  from  the  other  towns,  those  who  had  before 
voted  in  favor  of  torture  now  carried  the  day,  and  sad  and  dis- 
heartened, Girty  announced  to  his  friend:  “You  must  die!” 
Thanking  his  former  comrade  for  hi.:  efforts,  Kenton  was  sur- 
rounded by  the  strange  Indians,  and  being  strongly  bound,  was 
instantly  marched  off  with  a long  rope  around  his  neck,  to  which 
his  guards  kept  a firm  hold. 

Fortune  was  again  at  zero  with  Kenton,  when,  about  three  miles 
from  the  village,  Girty  passed  him,  telling  him  he  had  friends  at  the 
next  town,  and  was  going  to  see  what  he  could  do  for  him.  Life 
now  took  on  a more  roseate  hue,  but  this  was  destined  to  be  of 
short  duration;  for  Girty,  finding  he  could  do  nothing  for  his 
friend,  rode  sadly  back  to  Waughcotomoco  by  a different  route,  to 
avoid  seeing  the  comrade  whom  he  could  not  aid. 

Passing  through  the  village  where  Girty  had  hoped  so  much,  no 
stop  was  made,  but  some  ten  miles  beyond,  Kenton  paid  fully  for 
his  escape  from  running  the  gauntlet  in  the  village  he  had  just 
passed.  Seated  by  the  pathway  was  a filthy  Indian  indolently 
watching  his  wife  chopping  wood.  Lazily  removing  his  pipe  to 
give  occasional  instructions  to  the  poor  woman,  he  caught  sight  of 
Kenton  toiling  painfully  along,  and  the  appearance  of  the  white 
man  aroused  all  his  ire. 

Here  was  a safe  chance  to  exhibit  his  prowess,  and  hastily  snatch- 
ing the  axe  from  his  squaw,  he  rushed  at  Kenton,  and  with  a furi- 
ous blow  cut  through  his  shoulder,  crushing  the  bone,  and  almost 
lopping  off  the  arm.  Noble  savage  ! brave  deed  ! Just  as  he  was 
on  the  point  of  repeating  the  blow,  the  guard  interfered,  soundly 
berating  him  for  his  inhumanity — in  attempting  to  rob  them  of  the 
sport  of  torturing  their  prisoner — and  closing  around  Kenton,  they 
marched  on. 

Soon  after  this  event  they  reached  a large  village  on  the  Scioto, 
and  here  Kenton  beheld  an  Indian — the  most  noted  of  his  race  at 
that  day.  This  was  Logan,  the  Mingo,  whose  eloquence,  bravery, 
and  magnanimity  had  won  him  the  respect  alike  of  the  whites  and 
savages,  and  his  desire  to  benefit  Kenton  seems  wonderful,  when  we 
know  that  his  entire  family  had  been  murdered  in  cold  blood  by  a 
white  man,  Captain  Cresap. 


FREAKS  OF  FORTUNE.  131 

Approaching  the  prisoner,  he  said,  in  a soft,  musical  voice: 
“Well  young  man,  these  warriors  seem  very  mad  at  you. 

“Yes,  sir,”  said  Kenton,  surprised  as  much  at  his  kindness  as  at 
the  purity  of  his  English,  “they  certainly  are.” 

“Well”  said  Logan,  “don’t  be  disheartened— you  are  to  go  to 
Sandusky — they  speak  of  burning  you  there,  but  I am  a great 


KENTON  AND  LOGAN. 


chief,  and  I will  to-morrow  send  two  runners  to  speak  good  for 
you.”  Again  Kenton’s  spirits  began  to  rise,  at  this  evidence  of 
interest  in  his  fate  by  one  whom  he  afterwards  described  as  the 
noblest  and  most  remarkable  looking  Indian  he  had  ever  seen. 

On  the  following  morning,  true  to  his  word,  Logan  dispatched 
two  runners,  and  until  their  return  Kenton  was  permitted  to  spend 


132 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


much  of  his  time  with  the  great  chief,  who  treated  him  with  every 
kindness.  That  evening  the  runners  returned,  and  were  shut  up 
with  Logan  in  his  cabin,  Kenton  not  seeing  him  or  them  until  the 
next  morning..  This  was  probably  done  to  keep  from  the  prisoner 
the  knowledge  of  the  dreadful  fate  in  store  for  him  as  long  as 
possible,  and  in  the  morning  Logan  came  sadly  and  silently  to  him, 
gave  him  a piece  of  bread,  told  him  he  was  to  be  taken  to  Sandusky 
at  once,  and  turning  off,  left  him  to  his  guard.  He  knew  from  the 
chief’s  manner  that  his  intercession  had  failed,  and  his  heart  sank 
at  the  dreadful  intelligence. 

Driven  before  his  captors  into  Sandusky,  with  the  halter  around 
his  neck,  he  felt  that  at  last  the  crucial  point  in  his  wanderings  had 
been  reached,  and  here,  after  so  many  alternations  of  hope  and 
despair,  he  was  to  die  miserably,  the  victim  of  a barbarity  too 
horrible  to  be  thought  of.  When  he  reached  the  town,  the  stake 
had  already  been  set,  and  every  preparation  made  for  burning  him 
on  the  morrow,  but  here  again  fate — never  tired  of  using  him  as  a 
shuttlecock — interfered  once  more,  and  in  the  person  of  an  Indian 
agent,  named  Drewyer,  rescued  him  from  the  torture. 

Anxious  to  obtain  information  for  the  commandant  at  Detroit 
of  affairs  on  the  Ohio,  he  urged  so  earnestly  that  the  prisoner  be 
given  to  him,  that  the  Indians  were  forced  to  comply,  and  once 
again  Kenton’s  heart  went  bounding  upward  at  his  release  from  a 
fiery  death.  Drewyer  agreed  with  the  Indians  that,  when  the 
desired  information  had  been  obtained,  he  would  return  their  pris- 
oner to  them,  to  use  according  to  their  pleasure.  This  agreement, 
he  assured  Kenton,  he  had  no  idea  of  keeping,  and  endeavored  to 
ascertain  the  number  of  troops  in  Kentucky,  their  situation,  the 
fortifications,  etc.,  but  seemed  satisfied  when  Kenton  told  him  that, 
being  only  a private  soldier,  he,  of  course,  knew  but  little  of  affairs 
outside  of  his  own  post. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


DEATH  OF  KENTON. 


TREATMENT  AT  DETROIT RESOLVES  TO  ESCAPE SOUNDS  TWO  KENTUCKI- 
ANS  KENTON  OBTAINS  ARMS A FRIEND  IN  NEED START  FOR  KEN- 
TUCKY  TRAVEL  BY  NIGHT REACH  HOME CONSIDERATIONS  OF 

KENTON’S  CONDUCT HIS  AFTER-SERVICES LEARNS  THAT  HE  IS  NOT  A 

MURDERER VEITCH  ALIVE DROPS  THE  NAME  OF  BUTLER RETURNS 

TO  VIRGINIA BRINGS  HIS  FATHER’S  FAMILY  TO  KENTUCKY DEATH 

OF  THE  ELDER  KENTON BECOMES  A MAJOR TWO  ANECDOTES COM- 
ING OF  PEACE TROUBLES  OF  KENTON HIS  LAST  CAMPAIGN MIS- 
FORTUNES  GOES  TO  KENTUCKY HIS  SAD  PLIGHT MEETS  AN  OLD 

COMRADE THE  GUEST  OF  HONOR A SUCCESSFUL  MISSION DEATH 

OF  KENTON. 


At  Detroit  he  was  well  treated,  restricted  to  certain  bounds,  and 
obliged  to  report  once  daily  to  a British  officer.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances, his  wounded  shoulder  healed  rapidly,  and  he  became 
strong  and  well.  He  remained  in  Detroit  until  some  time  in  June, 
1778,  making  his  stay  there  nine  months,  when  he  set  about  per- 
fecting measures  for  his  escape.  For  this  he  would  need  a gun  and 
ammunition,  and  companionship  would  also  be  welcome,  if  it  could 
be  obtained.  The  dangers  were  fully  weighed,  and  also  the 
improbability  of  any  interposition  in  his  behalf  by  the  English, 
should  he  again  fall  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  but  he  determined 
that,  come  what  might,  he  would  make  the  effort. 

Sounding  two  young  Kentuckians,  who  were  taken  with  Boone  at 
the  Blue  Licks,  and  whom  the  British  had  purchased  at  the  time 
they  offered  to  ransom  Boone,  he  found  them  willing  to  brave  the 
dangers  of  the  two  hundred  miles  that  lay  between  them  and  their 
homes.  What  these  dangers  were  they  fully  knew,  and  they  set 
about  making  their  preparations  to  encounter  them. 

Kenton,  affecting  a great  friendship  for  two  Indians  employed  by 
some  of  the  citizens  as  hunters,  and  knowing  their  weakness  for 
liquor,  gave  them  all  the  rum  they  could  drink,  and  bought  their 
rifles  and  ammunition  for  a song.  Another  rifle  was  needed,  and 
that  was  obtained  from  a sympathetic  friend  of  Kenton’s,  named 
Edgar,  whose  wife  cheerfully  seconded  him  in  procuring  the  gun, 
with  an  ample  supply  of  powder,  balls  and  other  necessaries. 

133 


mam 


134 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


These  were  next  taken,  one  by  one,  out  of  the  town,  and  carefully 
secreted  until  such  time  as  they  thought  most  favorable  to  put  their 
plan  into  execution.  This  occurred  soon  after,  and  after  a perilous 
journey  of  thirty  nights — for  they  did  not  dare  to  move  during  the 
day — they  reached  Louisville. 


SIMON  KENTON  AND  COLONEL  FLETCHER. 


Kenton  had  been  gone  from  Kentucky  ten  months,  and  had  been 
subjected  to  greater  dangers  and  more  hardships  than  had  ever  fallen 
to  the  lot  of  any  of  the  pioneers.  From  the  time  of  his  capture 
he  seems  to  have  made  but  one  effort  to  escape,  and  that  so  ill-timed, 
that  it  was  doomed  to  failure  from  the  very  first,,  From  that  day, 


death  of  kentok. 


135 


until  his  escape  from  Detroit,  we  find  him  passively  resigned  to  fate, 
the  alternate  sport  of  his  good  and  evil  fortune. 

After  his  return  to  Kentucky,  Kenton  served  uninterruptedly  in 
various  capacities,  until  late  in  1782,  when,  through  some  lucky 
accident,  he  learned  that  his  old  rival,  Veitch,  was  alive.  It  was 
now  eleven  years  since  he  had  visited  his  home,  or  rather,  since  he 
had  left  it,  as  he  supposed,  with  the  brand  of  Cain  upon  his  brow, 
and  dropping  his  assumed  name  of  Butler,  he  determined  to  return 
once  more  to  the  scene  of  his  boyhood’s  days.  When  again  ready 
to  return  to  Kentucky,  he  persuaded  his  father’s  family  and  some 
others  to  accompany  him,  and  they  formed  a settlement  on  the  pres- 


kenton’s  cabin  on  mad  kiver— in  which  he  died. 


ent  site  of  Maysville.  On  the  way  to  Kentucky,  Kenton’s  father, 
— who  had  reached  the  promised  “three  score  years  and  ten” — died, 
and  wras  laid  to  rest  under  the  shade  of  one  of  those  giant  trees 
whose  gnarled  and  storm-scarred  trunk  fitly  typed  the  rugged  life 
of  the  old  patriarch. 

Kenton  had  now  attained  to  the  rank  of  Major,  and  as  such  served 
under  Clark,  and  also  under  “Mad  Anthony”  Wayne,  though  no 
account  is  given  of  his  having  taken  part  in  the  final  victory,  which 
crowned  the  campaign  of  that  irascible  old  hero. 

Two  of  Kenton’s  exploits,  which  occurred  during  a siege  of 
Boonsborough,  should  find  a place  here.  They  are  as  follows:  A 


13(3 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


small  party  having  for  some  purpose  made  a sally  from  the  fort,  one 
of  them  was  shot  down,  and  an  Indian  rushed  up  to  scalp  him.  As 
the  savage  bent  over  his  victim,  with  his  knife  to  the  dead  man’s 
head,  Kenton  fired,  and  the  Indian  fell  across  the  corpse  dead.  At 
the  same  time  Boone  who  had  sallied  out  to  rescue  the  survivors, 
was  shot  down,  and  all  of  his  men  immediately  started  for  the  fort. 

Kenton,  who  was  just  at  the  gate,  dropped  his  rifle,  and  exerting 
himself  to  the  utmost,  reached  Boone  before  the  Indians,  and  with 
a supreme  effort  of  his  herculean  strength,  took  him  in  his  arms  and 
bounded  off  towards  the  gate,  entering  it  in  safety,  amidst  a perfect 
shower  of  Indian  bullets.  All  of  the  scouts  worshipped  the  old 
pioneer  as  a demi-god,  and  Kenton  felt  a thousand  times  repaid  when 
Boone  sent  for  him,  and  said:  “Ah,  Simon,  you  are  a noble  fellow, 
a noble  fellow.” 

Another  time  Kenton  had  been  out  on  some  outlying  duty,  and 
returning  to  Boonsborough,  thought  he  saw  Indian  sign.  The  way  to 
the  fort  seemed  clear,  but  he  determined  to  secrete  himself  until  night 
and  then  enter.  When  night  came,  he  made  his  way  cautiously  to 
the  gate,  finding,  as  he  did  so,  the  corpses  of  three  men  who  had 
attempted  to  enter  that  day  and  been  waylaid  by  the  savages,  thus 
paying  with  their  lives  for  their  want  of  judgment  and  caution. 

At  last  peace  came  to  the  border,  and  the  tide  of  savage  war 
gbbed  forever  from  the  ensanguined  soil  of  the  “dark  and  bloody 
ground.”  Instead  of  the  horrid  war-whoop  of  the  fiendish  savage, 
the  lowing  of  herds  and  the  busy  hum  of  industry  filled  the  land 
with  their  music.  The  angry  note  of  the  warrior’s  rifle  was  sup- 
planted by  the  silvery  tones  of  sweet  church  bells,  that  chimed  out 
“Peace  on  earth,  good  will  to  man.” 

But  to  Kenton,  as  to  Boone,  the  cessation  of  warfare  brought 
other  troubles.  His  titles,  too,  would  not  stand  the  close  scrutiny 
of  the  land-sharks,  and  in  their  anxiety  to  press  their  claims  against 
the  man  who,  in  one  little  month,  had  endured  more  for  the  State 
than  all  their  miserable  tribe,  they  even  attempted  to  imprison 
him  for  alleged  debts. 

Flying  from  these  persecutions  with  more  alacrity  than  he  had 
ever  displayed  in  avoiding  hostile  rifles,  he  sought  the  wilderness  of 
Ohio.  This  was  about  the  year  1800,  and  in  a rude  cabin  he  dwelt 
uninterrupted,  until  the  year  1813,  when  he  joined  the  Kentuckians, 
under  Governor  Shelby,  and  played  a gallant  part  in  the  battle  of 


EEATH  OF  KENTON. 


137 


the  Thames,  fought  during  that  year.  This  was  the  last  time  he 
ever  joined  with  his  old  comrades  in  battle,  and  after  disbanding,  he 
returned  to  his  farm,  near  Urbana,  Ohio.  In  the  year  1820  he 
removed  to  the  site  of  the  old  Indian  town  of  Wapatomica,  the 
scene  of  an  eventful  epoch  in  his  life,  nearly  half  a century  before. 

Followed  by  misfortunes  continually,  he  at  last,  in  1824,  by  the 
advice  of  friends,  determined  to  appear  in  person  before  the  Legis- 
lature of  Kentucky,  and  petition  for  the  restoration  of  his  lands, 
which  had  been  forfeited  for  taxes.  The  rudely-clad  figure  and 
tattered  equipments  of  the  man  spoke  poorly  for  the  gratitude  of 
a country  which  owed  him  so  much,  but  it  would  have  fared  badly 


SIMON  KENTON— FROM  A PORTRAIT  TAKEN  JUST  BEFORE  HIS  DEATH. 

with  the  incautious  individual  who  would  have  dared  to  say  aught 
against  the  land  for  which  he  had  so  bravely  battled. 

One  of  his  friends,  commiserating  the  plight  of  the  brave  old 
man,  did  hint  at  the  miserable  ingratitude  of  a country  that  could 
let  its  old  war-worn  heroes  suffer,  when  he  was  instantly  and  indig- 
nantly stopped  by  Kenton  saying:  “Never  repeat  that,  my  friend; 
if  you  do,  I’ll  never  speak  to  you  again — never  darken  your  doors 
again.  You  are  my  friend,  but  don’t  say  that.” 

Beaching  Frankfort,  he  felt  himself  a stranger  in  the  streets  of 
the  prosperous  town,  over  whose  site  he  had  chased  the  deer  and 


138 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


watched  the  marauding  bands  of  the  savages,  and  his  sorry  steed,  with 
its  poor  and  worn  trappings,  shared  with  his  master  the  ridicule  and 
jibes  of  a generation  which  knew  not  the  native  worth  and  heroic 
services  of  Kenton.  In  this  plight  he  was  found  by  one  of  his  old- 
time  comrades,  the  noble  Colonel  Fletcher,  and  by  him  fitted  out  so 
as  to  make  a suitable  appearance.  Taken  to  the  capitol,  he  was 
given  the  post  of  honor  in  the  speaker’s  chair,  and  every  citizen,  now 
cognizant  of  the  man  and  his  deeds,  crowded  around  him  to  offer 
homage,  and  to  assure  him  of  the  place  he  held  in  their  esteem. 

When  he  returned  to  his  cabin,  on  the  banks  of  Mad  River,  it 
was  with  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  his  mission  had  been  a 
success,  for  with  something  of  shame  that  it  had  been  so  long  delayed, 
the  Legislature  confirmed  his  title  to  his  lands,  and  his  newly-found 
friends  so  exerted  themselves  as  to  secure  for  him  a small  though 
ample  pension  for  the  remainder  of  his  life. 

At  last — at  the  ripe  old  age  of  eighty-one  years — the  silent  visitor, 
who  comes  alike  to  all,  whispered  his  call  into  the  ear  of  the  brave 
old  pioneer,  and  he  passed  from  the  scenes  of  “shadow-casting” 
men.  In  1836,  after  a long  and  useful  life,  which  had  had  somewhat 
more  than  its  share  of  sorrows,  somewhat  less  than  its  measure  of 
sweet,  he  passed  away  calmly  and  peacefully,  his  fading  eyes  fixed 
in  a loving  gaze  toward  the  land  for  which  he  had  given  and  suffered 
so  much.  “The  wheel  had  come  full  circle,”  and  here,  almost  on 
the  very  spot  where,  fifty  years  before,  he  had  been  first  fastened  to 
the  stake,  they  made  his  grave,  and  laid  him  down  to  the  eternal 
sleep. 


CHAPTER  Xm. 


THE  WETZELS. 


THEIR  BIRTHPLACE CHARACTERS DESCRIPTION  OF  LEWIS A TERRIBLE 

EVENT TAKEN  BY  SAVAGES ESCAPE A BOY’S  BRAVERY ON  THE 

TRAIL LEWIS  KILLS  THREE  INDIANS TRAGIC  DEATH  OF  THOMAS 

MILLS UHE  GUN  ALWAYS  LOADED” THE  DEATH  OF  A HERO THE 

AVENGERS’  OATH THE  SCOUT  FROM  WHEELING RETREAT  OF  WHITES 

LEWIS  WETZEL  ALONE KILLS  AN  INDIAN A HUNT FOUR 

INDIANS  “TREED” ONE  GETS  AWAY MURDER  OF  GEORGE  WASHING- 
TON  HARMER’S  FURY CAPTAIN  KINGSBURY  ATTEMPTS  TO  ARREST 

WETZEL NARROW  ESCAPE  OF  THE  OFFICER CAPTURED  ON  AN  ISLAND 

PINES  IN  PRISON ALLOWED  TO  EXERCISE WETZEL’S  ESCAPE 

EAGER  PURSUIT REJOINS  HIS  COMRADES. 


The  four  Wetzel  brothers  were  Virginians,  of  German  descent, 
and  were  as  remarkable  as  any  of  the  brave  borderers  who  held  the 
outer  posts  of  civilization  against  the  savage  enemy.  Lacking  the 
grand  moral  purpose  of  Boone,  they  were  yet  as  brave  men  as  ever 
lived,  but  their  bravery  was  tinctured  with  a ferocity  more  admira- 
ble in  their  enemies  than  in  themselves,  though  by  no  means  to  be 
commended  in  either. 

This  ferocity  was  the  result  of  the  inhumanity  of  the  Indians, 
which,  thus  recoiling  upon  themselves,  the  more  certainly  and 
quickly  brought  about  their  expulsion  from  their  ancient  hunting 
grounds.  To  such  men  as  Boone — sustained  by  the  consciousness 
of  a mission  to  perform,  and  blessed  with  a high  moral  sense,  not 
common  even  to  those  more  highly  endowed  with  education  and 
refinement — the  savage  barbarity  could  never  touch  an  answering 
chord  in  the  heart.  At  no  time  in  Boone’s  career  do  we  find  him  guilty 
of  a mean  or  cruel  action. 

Taking  Lewis  Wetzel  (or  as  the  older  accounts  spell  the  name 
Whclzel)  as  a type  of  the  family,  we  find  him  a man  five  feet  nine 
inches  high,  with  broad  shoulders,  deep  chest,  sinewy  limbs,  and 
dark  skin.  His  face  was  deeply  pitted  with  small-pox,  his  eyes 
were  black,  and  his  hair — of  which  he  was  very  proud — reached 
down  to  the  calves  of  his  legs.  A man  of  uneven  temperament, 
he  was  alternately  grave  and  gay,  and  was  one  of  those  who  make 

139 


140 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


strong  friends  and  bitter  enemies.  Utterly  fearless,  his  bravery 
was  the  unthinking  animal  courage  of  the  tiger,  tinged  with  its 
fierce  thirst  for  blood,  and  almost  as  unsparing.  That  such  men 
as  these  were  necessary  for  the  settlement  of  the  wilderness  is  self- 
evident. 

Waging  a war  of  extermination  themselves,  the  Indians  called 
down  the  vengeance  of  the  whites,  and  some  of  the  latter  adopted 
in  retaliation  their  own  methods,  so  far  as  it  concerned  the  warriors, 
though  none  of  them  descended  to  the  infamous  slaughter  of  women 
and  children,  as  did  their  savage  foes.  The  initiation  of  the  Wetzels 
into  the  horrors  of  Indian  warfare  occurred  while  they  were  but 
youths.  Their  father,  John  Wetzel,  left  his  isolated  cabin  one 


morning  for  a hunting  and  fishing  excursion,  and  during  his  absence 
his  cabin  was  surprised;  his  wife,  her  aged  father,  and  three  young- 
est children  were  killed  and  scalped,  and  Lewis — whom  they  had 
wounded — and  his  brother  Jacob,  carried  off. 

At  this  time  Lewis  was  about  thirteen  years  old,  and  Jacob 
eleven,  but  they  were  of  heroic  mould.  Encouraging  his  younger 
brother  to  renewed  exertions,  that  he  might  not  drop  behind  on  the 
march,  Lewis  bore  the  pain  of  his  severe  wound  with  the  courage  of 
a stoic.  He  knew  the  fate  of  an  Indian  prisoner  who  lagged,  or 
whose  agony  caused  him  to  make  a noise,  and  he  wished  to  avoid  the 
tomahawk,  that  he  might  obtain  revenge. 

The  night  of  the  second  day  the  Indians  camped  twenty  miles 
beyond  the  Ohio  River,  and  thinking  such  children  unable  to  escape 


THE  WETZELS. 


141 


them  now,  they  did  not  bind  them,  and  lying  down,  were  soon 
soundly  sleeping.  The  savages  had  underestimated  the  daring  cour- 
age which  animated  the  heart  of  Lewis  Wetzel,  for  no  sooner  were 
they  fast  asleep  than,  touching  his  brother,  they  stole  away  into  the 
darkness.  After  going  a few  hundred  yards,  Lewis  saw  that  they 
would  be  unable  to  get  over  the  rough  ground  without  moccasins, 
and  leaving  his  brother  in  the  forest,  he  went  back  to  the  Indians’ 
camp  and  got  a pair  for  each.  Returning  to  his  brother,  they  had 
hardly  fitted  on  the  moccasins  when  he  thought  of  the  necessity  of  a 
rifle,  with  which  to  kill  game  for  their  support,  and  again  making 
his  way  to  the  camp,  he  secured  a gun  and  ammunition. 

Speeding  on  through  the  night,  Lewis  listened  anxiously  for  the 
pursuit,  which  he  knew  would  be  made,  and  just  as  the  dawn  began 
to  light  up  the  gloomy  depths  of  the  forest,  he  heard  behind  him  the 
savage  shouts  of  his  enemies.  Telling  his  younger  brother  to  walk 
backward  a short  distance  and  enter  the  dense  undergrowth,  Lewis 
followed  him,  covering  their  trail  as  carefully  as  possible.  They 
had  lain  in  their  covert  but  a few  minutes,  when  their  captors 
bounded  past  rapidly,  furious  with  rage. 

As%oon  as  they  were  out  of  sight,  the  two  boys  sprang  into  the 
trail  and  followed  as  fast  as  they  could.  In  a few  hours  they  heard 
the  Indians  returning,  and  repeated  their  former  maneuvre.  Late  in 
the  afternoon  they  again  heard  the  sounds  of  pursuit,  and  secreting 
themselves,  they  saw  the  savages  dash  by  on  horses.  These,  how- 
ever, were  no  more  successful  than  the  others  had  been,  and  making 
their  way  to  the  river,  the  boys  fastened  two  logs  together  and  suc- 
ceeded in  crossing  it,  and  soon  after  reached  the  house  of  a 
neighbor. 

The  young  heroes  were  highly  complimented  on  their  courage  and 
fortitude,  and  this  exploit  seemed  to  all  an  indication  of  their  fitness 
to  take  their  places  as  defenders  of  the  border,  when  age  should  have 
given  them  experience,  and  maturity  had  fitted  them  to  endure  the 
hardships  of  camp  and  battle,  and  to  their  native  strength  and  cour- 
age had  added  the  caution  of  the  trained  scout,  and  the  agility  of  the 
athlete, 

Lewis  was  the  strongest  and  most  active,  not  only  of  his  family, 
but  of  all  the  youths  on  the  western  borders  of  Virginia,  and  he  had 
by  long  practice  gained  the  ability  to  load  ms  rifle  while  running  at 
full  speed,  an  accomplishment  which  was  of  immense  advantage  to 


142 


CONQUERING  THE  WTT/DERNESS. 


WONDERFUL  EXPLOIT  OF  WETZEL  AT  THE  AGE  OF  SEVENTEEN. 


THE  WETZELS. 


143 


him  in  after-life.  The  first  exploit  in  which  he  put  in  practice  this 
feat  of  loading  while  at  full  speed,  happened  when  he  was  about  sev- 
enteen years  of  age.  Thomas  Mills,  who  had  accompanied  Crawford 
in  his  ill-fated  expedition,  escaped  with  his  life,  riding  in  his  flight 
to  what  was  known  as  Indian  Spring,  a few  miles  from  Wheeling. 
Here — the  country  being  very  rough — he  dismounted,  tied  his  horse, 
and  reached  the  settlement  on  foot. 

Not  wishing  to  dare  alone  the  dangers  of  a return  for  the  horse, 
he  induced  Lewis  Wetzel  to  accompany  him.  Arriving  at  the  spring, 
they  saw  that  the  horse  was  still  tied  there,  and  some  intuition  told 
Wetzel  that  this  was  ominous.  Warning  Mills  that  it  would  be  danger- 
ous  to  venture  to  the  animal,  the  older  man  neglected  the  caution,  and 
was  proceeding  to  untie  the  horse,  when  Wetzel,  seeing  the  head  of  an 
Indian  protruding  from  behind  a rock,  fired  on  him,  at  the  same 
time  calling  to  Mills  to  tree. 

The  Indian  fell,  but  at  the  same  time  his  comrades  fired  on  Mills, 
killing  him  instantly.  Starting  off  at  a run,  Wetzel  was  pur- 
sued by  four  of  the  Indians,  who — knowing  the  white  man’s  gun  to 
be  unloaded — had  dropped  their  own,  and  so  had  quite  an  advantage 
in  being  unencumbered. 

For  half  a mile  Wetzel  exerted  his  utmost  speed,  and  finding 
that  he  could  not  distance  his  pursuers,  turned  and  fired  upon  the 
foremost,  having  loaded  his  rifle  while  retrepiing.  The  Indian  fell, 
and  the  white  man  bounded  off  again,  but  when,  after  a race  of  a half 
or  three-quarters  of  a mile — having  succeeded  in  again  loading — he 
turned  to  fire,  one  of  his  enemies  was  closer  upon  him  than  he 
thought,  and  when  the  rifle  was  thrown  forward  to  fire,  he  darted 
rapidly  upon  Wetzel  and  seized  the  muzzle  of  his  gun.  The  two 
men  were  nearly  evenly  matched,  and- it  was  only  by  the  greatest 
exertion  of  his  strength  that  the  white  man  succeeded  in  wresting 
loose  the  hold  of  the  Indian,  and  shooting  him.  During  the  short 
struggle  the  other  two  Indians  had  gained  upon  him,  and  it  required 
all  of  his  speed  to  increase  the  distance  between  them,  so  that  he 
could  again  have  an  opportunity  to  load  his  gun. 

This  being  at  last  accomplished,  he  turned  to  fire  on  the  Indians, 
but  they  had  gained  knowledge  from  the  sad  experience  of  their 
comrades,  and  both  treed.  Turning  whenever  fatigued,  he  forced 
the  Indians  to  take  to  shelter,  and  thus  gained  short  rests.  At  last 
he  had  reached  a limit  beyond  which  he  did  not  think  the  savages 


144 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


would  pursue,  and,  in  order  to  get  a chance  to  kill  at  least  one  more, 
he  left  the  timber  and  ran  across  an  open  space,  stumbling,  as  if 
entirely  exhausted.  His  artifice  succeeded,  and  wheeling  rapidly, 
he  caught  both  of  his  foes  in  the  open  space,  and  before  they  could 
reach  cover,  one  of  them  fell  beneath  his  unfailing  rifle.  The  other 
Indian,  fearing  pursuit  in  turn,  dashed  rapidly  back  upon  his  tracks, 
howling  out:  “No  catch  dat  man;  he  gun  always  loaded.” 

Up  to  this  time,  and  for  some  four  years  after,  the  Wetzels  did 
not  make  a business  of  hunting  Indians — only  killing  them  inciden- 
tally, as  they  happened  to  come  across  them — but  in  1787  an  inci- 
dent occurred,  which  made  of  the  brothers  Indian  hunters  in  the 
fiercest  sense  of  the  word.  John  Wetzel,  the  father  of  the  boys,  was 
returning  from  one  of  his  hunting  excursions,  upon  which  he  had 
been  accompanied  by  his  son  Martin.  As  they  were  gliding  down 
the  river  in  a canoe,  the  Indians  hailed  them,  and  ordered  them 
ashore. 

In  answer  to  the  summons,  the  white  men  pulled  rapidly  to  the 
farther  side  of  the  river,  but  not  in  time  to  escape  a volley  of  bul- 
lets, one  of  which  inflicted  a desperate  wound  on  the  father.  Feel- 
ing that  it  would  prove  fatal,  he  ordered  Martin  to  lie  down  in  the 
canoe,  and  the  heroic  old  man — his  life  and  strength  ebbing  out 
together  at  every  stroke — pulled  on  through  volley  after  volley  of 
the  savages,  and  expired  immediately  after  reaching  a place  of 
safety.  The  brothers  now  took  a solemn  oath  to  avenge  their 
slaughtered  parents,  and  right  fiercely  did  they  keep  it,  as  the  few 
incidents  in  their  careers  which  have  been  preserved  will  amply 
prove. 

A week  or  two  after  the  murder  of  old  man  Wetzel,  the  Indians 
made  an  incursion  near  Wheeling,  and  killed  one  man.  This  aroused 
the  settlers,  and  they  organized  an  expedition  under  the  command  of 
Major  McMahan,  to  follow  and  punish  the  savages.  To  encourage 
the  men  to  activity  and  vigilance,  a purse  of  one  hundred  dollars 
was  made  up,  to  go  to  the  first  man  taking  an  Indian  scalp.  Strik- 
ing an  Indian  trail,  this  was  followed  rapidly  for  several  miles,  and 
at  last  the  advanced  scouts  returned  with  the  information  that  a 
large  body  of  the  enemy  was  encamped  a few  miles  ahead.  The 
numbers  were  decided  to  be  too  great  to  be  attacked  with  a prospect 
of  success,  and  fearing  they  might  be  discovered,  they  determined 
to  return  to  Wheeling  with  all  the  speed  possible . 


THE  WETZELS, 


145 


When  they  set  off  on  their  return  home,  they  noticed  that 
Wetzel  did  not  move.  Asking  him,  if  he  did  not  intend  to  accompany 
them,  he  told  them  that  he  had  “set  out  to  hunt  Indians,  and 
thought  that  had  also  been  their  purpose.  That  his  object  in  hunting 
Indians  was  to  kill  them,  and  now  that  he  had  treed  his  game. 


DEATH  OF  JOHN  WETZEL  WHILE  RUNNING  THE  CHUTE. 

he  didn’t  intend  to  run  off  from  it  without  a shot.”  His  banter  had 
no  effect  on  them,  and  leaving  him,  as  they  supposed,  to  a lamentable 
fate,  they  started  off  in  full  retreat.  Though  brave  to  desperation, 
Wetzel  possessed  the  quality  of  caution,  and  betore  starting  off  on 
his  dangerous  mission,  thoroughly  examined  his  arms,  and  advanced 
slowly  along  the  trail. 


146 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Searching  for  the  large  body  of  Indians,  he  failed  to  find  it,  but 
seeing  Indian  signs  in  plenty,  he  determined  to  persevere,  and  on 
the  morning  of  the  second  day,  he  found  a camp  with  two  Indians 
in  it.  Thinking  there  might  be  more,  and  wishing  to  kill  as  many 
as  possible  before  his  return,  he  struck  out  into  the  forest,  deter- 
mining to  come  back  that  night,  when  he  supposed  all  the  Indians 
would  be  there.  Game  was  abundant,  and  he  fared  sumptuously 
during  the  day,  returning  at  night  to  the  Indian  camp.  Here  he 
again  found  the  two  Indians  of  the  morning,  and  one  of  them  was 
on  the  point  of  starting  off. 

Seeing  with  chagrin  that  he  would  now  have  to  put  up  with  a 
single  scalp,  he  waited  until  the  Indian  was  sound  asleep,  and  walk- 
ing into  the  camp,  he  tomahawked  and  scalped  him.  With  a slight 
hope  that  the  other  might  yet  return,  he  wrapped  himself  in  the 
dead  Indian’s  blanket,  and  lay  down  by  the  fire,  but  after  waiting 
for  several  hours,  he  gave  up  all  hope  of  getting  another  scalp,  and 
set  out  at  full  speed  for  the  settlements,  which — owing  to  his  greater 
strength  and  agility — he  reached  just  one  day,  instead  three,  behind 
his  comrades. 

Another  time,  while  out  on  a hunt,  Wetzel  came  suddenly  upon  a 
camp  containing  four  Indians.  Seeing  that  they  had  not  discovered 
him,  he  dodged  back  into  the  brush,  and  made  his  plans  for  attack- 
ing them.  The  odds  were  too  great  for  an  open  attack,  so  he  con- 
cealed himself  until  midnight,  and  made  his  way  into  the  hostile 
camp.  Here  he  rested  his  rifle  against  a tree,  to  be  at  hand  in  case 
of  an  emergency,  and  drawing  his  tomahawk,  cleft  the  skull  of  the 
nearest  savage.  Yelling  like  a demon,  he  cut  down  two  of  the  others 
in  rapid  succession,  while  the  fourth  darted  off  into  the  woods. 
Wetzel  pursued  this  one  some  distance,  but  was  unable  to  overtake 
him,  and  returned  to  the  camp  for  the  scalps  of  those  he  had 
slain.  He  is  said  to  have  replied  to  some  one,  who  asked  him  what 
success  he  had  in  his  hunt:  “Not  much;  I treed  four  Indians,  but 
one  got  away.” 

The  murder  (for  it  was  nothing  else)  of  the  Indian  warrior, 
George  Washington,  by  Wetzel  and  a man  named  Dickerson,  casts 
an  indelible  stain  upon  the  former’s  character.  It  occurred  upon  the 
gathering  by  Gen.  Harmer  of  several  tribes  of  Indians  near  his 
fort  on  the  Muskingum,  (now  Marietta,  Ohio,)  for  the  purpose  of 
making  a treaty  with  them.  Ambushing  themselves  near  the  Indian 


THE  WETZELS. 


147 


encampment,  the  two  men  determined  to  kill  the  first  Indian  who 
might  pass.  They  did  not  have  long  to  wait  till,  confident  of  pro- 
tection under  the  flag  of  truce,  a warrior  was  seen  riding  at  full 
speed  toward  the  fort.  As  he  passed  both  men  fired,  and  though 
the  Indian  reeled  in  his  saddle,  yet  he  rode  on  to  the  fort,  and  while 
dying  demanded  vengeance  upon  his  slayers.  Harmer,  no  less 
furious  than  the  Indians,  vowed  that  justice  should  be  done,  and  as 
general  report  pointed  to  Wetzel  as  the  guilty  party,  he  sent  Capt. 
Kingsbury  with  a company  of  men  to  arrest  him. 

Reaching  the  Mingo  Bottom  settlement,  where  Wetzel  then  lived, 
all  of  the  men  were  found  engaged  in  a shooting  match.  When 
informed  of  the  captain’s  mission,  the  settlers  swore  Wetzel  should 
not  be  arrested,  and  the  latter  was  with  difficulty  restrained  from 
giving  to  the  captain  a rough  reception;  and  when  Kingsbury, 
warned  of  his  danger,  took  his  boat  to  return,  Wetzel  only  refrained 
from  ambushing  it,  through  the  persuasions  of  Maj.  McMahan. 
Some  time  after  this  Wetzel,  on  one  of  his  excursions  down  the 
river,  stopped  on  an  island,  opposite  Harmer’ s fort  to  spend  the 
night  with  a friend.  Here  he  was  surrounded  at  midnight  by  a 
company  of  men  from  the  fort,  and  captured.  Thrown  into  the 
guard  house  heavily  ironed,  the  hardy  hunter,  deprived  of  open-air 
exercise,  fretted  like  a caged  lion.  His  condition  was  rendered  the 
more  intolerable  from  the  fact  that  he  looked  on  his  act  as  not  only 
justifiable,  but  highly  meritorious,  and  at  last  he  sent  for  Gen. 
Harmer  to  remonstrate  on  his  being  treated  like  a common  felon. 

Informed  that  he  would  probably  be  hung,  he  pleaded  to  be 
turned  loose,  in  the  midst  of  the  infuriated  savages,  armed  only 
with  a tomahawk.  He  did  not  fear  death,  he  said,  but  he  didn’t 
want  to  die  upon  the  scaffold ; he  would  prefer  the  stake  and  the 
death  by  fire  to  that.  Harmer  told  him  that  the  scaffold  was  the 
death  appointed  by  the  law,  and  as  an  officer  of  that  law  he  must 
execute  it,  but  seeing  how  the  prisoner  drooped  under  his  close  con- 
finement, he  ordered  his  spansels  knocked  off,  so  that,  in  charge  of 
guards,  he  could  take  exercise  near  the  fort.  His  handcuffs  were 
to  remain,  and  this,  with  the  presence  of  the  guard,  was  deemed 
sufficient  restraint. 

Once  in  the  open  air,  Wetzel  frisked  about  like  a young  colt, 
dashing  backward  and  forward,  experimenting  all  the  time  to  see 


148 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


how  far  he  could  try  the  patience  of  the  soldiers,  for,  knowing  his 
fate  if  he  remained,  he  had  determined  to  escape.  At  each  run  he 


wetzel’s  escape  from  fort  harmer. 

extended  the  limit  of  his  course,  and  finally,  with  the  speed  of  a 
deer,  darted  off  into  the  forest,  followed  by  a volley  from  the  guns 


THE  WETZELS . 


149 


of  his  guard.  Once  in  the  wood,  he  hastened  to  a dense  thicket 
with  which  he  was  well  acquainted,  and  entering  it,  pushed  into  a 
tangled  mass  of  briars  and  wedged  himself  beneath  a fallen  tree. 
The  Indians,  as  well  as  the  soldiers,  had  gone  in  pursuit,  and  several 
times  Wetzel’s  heart  sank  at  the  near  prospect  of  discovery; 
several  Indians  at  one  time  sitting  on  the  tree,  beneath  which  he  lay 
during  their  rest  discussing  the  prisoner’s  escape.  At  last,  however, 
they  left,  and  the  sounds  of  pursuit  died  out.  Lying  quiet  until 
night,  he  heard  the  pursuing  parties  returning,  and  venturing  out, 
he  made  a rapid  march  down  the  river,  and  by  the  clear  moonlight 
was  lucky  enough  to  see  an  acquaintance  fishing  from  a canoe 
moored  in  the  river.  Knowing  the  cunning  and  vigilance  of  the 
Indians,  and  fearing  some  of  them  might  be  on  the  lookout,  Wetzel 
did  not  dare  to  call  to  his  friend,  but  taking  a stick,  began  striking 
on  the  water,  and  in  this  way  attracted  his  attention.  Carried  across 
the  river,  he  was  freed  from  his  handcuffs,  and  was  soon  again 
amongst  his  friends. 


CHAPTER  XI Y. 


OTHER  EXPLOITS  OF  THE  WETZELS. 


MEETING-  BETWEEN  WETZEL  AND  KINGSBURY SECOND  CAPTURE  OF  WETZEL 

WRIT  OF  HABEAS  CORPUS PRESENTED  WITH  A RIFLE HARMER’S 

POSITION THE  RED  GOBBLER A FEAT  ATTRIBUTED  TO  OTHERS THE 

DEAD  INDIAN RESCUES  MISS  BETSY  BRYAN THE  DAYLIGHT  ATTACK 

WETZEL’S  PROWESS A RELIGIOUS  DUTY A DESERTED  CAMP DEATH 

OF  JOHN  MADISON ESCAPE  OF  LEWIS  WETZEL GOES  TO  NEW  ORLEANS 

IMPRISONED  BY  THE  SPANISH CAUSE  UNKNOWN WITH  LEWIS  AND 

CLARK LEAVES  THE  EXPEDITION DIES  IN  NATCHEZ FEROCITY  OF 

MARTIN  WETZEL THE  MURDERED  CHIEF SLAUGHTERING  PRISONERS 

CAPTURED  AND  ADOPTED  BY  INDIANS GOES  ON  A HUNT KILLS  THREE 

COMPANIONS JOHN  WETZEL GOES  ON  A FORAY CAPTURE  OF  INDIAN 

HORSES ILLNESS  OF  A COMRADE THE  HALT A NIGHT  ATTACK 

ESCAPE  OF  WETZEL. 


Roaming  about,  Wetzel  did  not  taKe  any  unusual  precautions  against 
capture,  and  some  time  after  met  Capt.  Kingsbury.  Both  were 
men  of  undoubted  bravery,  but,  though  face  to  face,  neither  made 
an  attack  on  the  other,  but  passed  in  silence,  mute  but  watchful. 
Not  long  after  this  encounter  he  was  surprised  in  a tavern  at  Mays- 
ville,  Kentucky,  by  a company  of  troops,  and  by  them  taken  to 
Harmer,  then  in  command  at  Fort  Washington,  (now  Cincinnati). 
Wetzel  now  gave  up  all  hope,  but  the  bold  Indian  fighter  was  not 
doomed  to  perish  by  the  rope,  for  not  only  the  settlers,  but  the 
soldiers — in  fact  the  whole  country — rose  as  a man  and  demanded  his 
release.  Judge  Symmes,  under  the  popular  pressure,  decided  to 
issue  a writ  of  habeas  corpus , and  Wetzel  being  brought  before  him, 
was  discharged  from  custody.  So  great  was  the  popular  admiration 
that  he  was  presented  with  a sum  of  money,  a handsome  rifle  and 
equipments,  and  he  set  out  for  Virginia,  cheered  to  the  echo. 

While  Harmer  has  been  greatly  censured  for  his  activity  in  hunt- 
ing down  Wetzel,  yet  we  should  remember  that  he  but  performed 
his  duty,  and  though  Wetzel  thought  himself  thoroughly  justified  in 
killing  an  Indian  whenever  and  wherever  he  met  one,  yet  we  can  all 
see  that,  in  this  instance,  he  most  certainly  was  guilty  of  a grave 
crime,  and  though  innocent  in  for o conscienciae , was  still  a felon  in 
the  eyes  of  society  and  of  the  law.  Especially  was  his  crime  grave 

150 


OTHER  EXPLOITS  OF  THE  WETZELS. 


151 


in  the  eyes  of  a military  man,  who  saw  in  it  not  only  cold-blooded 
murder,  but  a violation  of  a flag  of  truce,  an  unpardonable  offense — 
almost  a sacrilege — that  made  every  soldier  who  did  not  endeavor  to 
punish  it  a sharer  in  it. 

The  following  incident  is  credited  to  Wetzel  and  also  to  William 
Linn.  It  seems  that  several  hunters,  from  a fort  on  Wheeling 
Creek  had  mysteriously  disappeared,  and  while,  of  course,  every- 
one believed  they  had  been  killed  by  Indians,  yet  no  one  had 
any  idea  of  how  or  where  the  killing  had  been  done.  Wetzel,  when 
one  day  thinking  over  the  matter,  remembered  to  have  noticed  that 
each  of  these  men  had  gone  out  to  kill  turkeys,  which  had  been 
heard  near  the  fort,  and  he  also  remembered  that  these  turkey  calls 
had  always  been  heard  to  come  from  one  direction.  His  suspicions 
were  excited  in  a momenfaon  putting  the  two  circumstances  together, 
and  he  concluded  that  these  calls  were  the  decoys  of  Indians,  and  his 
suspicions  were  strengthened  by  his  knowledge  of  the  lay  of  the 
country  in  the  direction  from  which  the  sounds  had  proceeded. 

Near  the  top  of  a certain  hill  was  a small  cave,  which,  if  his  con- 
clusions were  not  groundless,  must  shelter  the  decoy  turkey.  Set- 
ting out  one  morning,  before  daylight,  he  placed  himself  in  ambush 
near  this  cave,  so  as  to  command  a clear  view  of  its  mouth.  Wait- 
ing quietly  until  sunrise,  he  saw  the  head  of  an  Indian  appear  at  the 
narrow  entrance  of  the  cavern,  and  a marvelously  perfect  imitation  of 
the  note  of  the  male  wild  turkey  rang  out  over  the  hills.  Time  and 
again  was  the  call  repeated  until  Wetzel,  tired  of  amusing  himself 
with  the  anticipation  of  killing  his  foe,  levelled  his  rifle  on  the 
entrance,  and  when  the  head  again  appeared,  the  call  was  cut  short 
by  a rifle  bullet.  The  pitcher  had  gone  to  the  well  once  too  often 
and  was  broken. 

To  show  how  perfect  the  Indian’s  imitation  was,  Wetzel  on  his 
way  back  to  the  fort  met  one  of  the  soldiers  hastening  out  after  the 
turkey.  “You  are  too  late,”  said  Wetzel,  “that  turkey  won’t  call 
anymore;  I’ve  fixed  him;”  and  he  showed  the  bloody  scalp.  His 
penetration  had  no  doubt  saved  the  life  of  many  a poor  fellow  in 
the  fort. 

The  generous  heart  of  Wetzel  ever  responded  to  the  cry  of  dis- 
tress, and  when  one  day  going  with  a friend  to  pay  a visit,  they 
found  the  house  burned,  and  every  indication  that  the  Indians  had 
been  there  before  them,  Wetzel  resolved  that  the  outrage  should 


152 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


be  avenged.  From  a woman’s  track  beside  that  of  the  Indians, 
the  two  men  concluded  that  the  savages  had  carried  off  one  of  the 
family,  Miss  Betsy  Bryan,  and  the  feelings  of  Wetzel’s  friend  may 
be  better  imagined  than  described,  when  it  is  stated  that  the  girl  who 
had  been  dragged  off  to  a fate  worse  than  death,  was  his  sweetheart. 
Bidding  him  cheer  up,  for  he  would  rescue  the  girl  if  it  cost 


MISS  BETSY  BRYAN. 


him  his  life,  Wetzel  took  the  lead  and  they  pressed  eagerly  for" 
ward  on  the  trail. 

Crossing  the  Ohio  on  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  they  noticed 
the  smoke  of  a camp  fire,  and  on  going  cautiously  towards  it,  saw 
the  girl,  three  Indians  and  a white  renegade  seated  near  the  fire. 
Restraining  the  impatience  of_the  lover  with  the  utmost  difficulty, 


OTHER  EXPLOITS  OF  THE  WETZELS. 


153 


V^etzel  told  him  to  lie  down  and  get  some  rest,  while  he  matured  a 
plan  of  operations.  Concluding  to  attack  about  two  o’clock  in  the 
morning,  he  let  his  friend  sleep  while  he  stood  guard.  Waking  his 
companion  at  the  time  agreed  on,  he  noticed  that  the  Indians  were 
already  astir,  and  hurriedly  telling  his  companion  to  fire  at  one  of 
the  Indians  and  rush  into  camp  to  protect  the  captive,  he  fired  at 
the  renegade,  and  the  two  fell  to  the  ground.  His  comrade  rushed 
to  his  sweetheart  when,  as  Wetzel  had  foreseen,  the  other  two  Indians 
took  to  their  heels. 

Wetzel  by  this  time  had  reloaded,  and  he  started  in  pursuit  of  the 
Rher  Indians,  but  as  they  had  concealed  themselves,  he  fired  off  his 
rifle,  thinking  they  might  pursue  him  if  they  thought  his  gun  empty. 
He  was  not  mistaken,  for  the  two  savages  rushed  from  the  bushes 
and  gave  chase.  Reloading  as  he  ran,  he  turned  and  shot  one  of 
them,  and  the  other  now  knowing  that  his  opponent  was  none  other 
than  Lewis  Wetzel,  exerted  himself  to  the  utmost,  hoping  to  over- 
take the  white  man  before  he  could  again  load  his  rifle.  His  hope 
was  vain,  and  after  an  unusually  close  pursuit,  Wetzel  having  suc- 
ceeded in  loading,  turned  and  shot  the  last  Indian.  Scalping  the 
savages,  which  he  considered  almost  in  the  light  of  a religious  duty, 
he  and  his  friend,  with  the  rescued  girl,  were  soon  back  in  the 
settlements. 

Accompanying  John  Madison,  (brother  of  the  President,)  on  an 
expedition  to  locate  lands  on  the  Kanawha  River,  they  came  one  day 
to  a hunter’s  camp,  which,  from  appearances,  they  thought  had  been 
.some  time  deserted.  With  no  wrong  intention,  they  appropriated 
some  of  the  goods,  and  went  about  their  business.  The  next  day 
they  were  fired  upon  by  Indians  secreted  in  a thicket,  and  although 
Madison  was  killed,  yet  Wetzel,  after  a long  chase,  escaped 
untouched.  • 

Wetzel  appears  to  have  made  his  way  South  after  this,  and  some 
time  during  the  year  1793  was  confined  in  New  Orleans  by  the 
Spanish.  After  a long  imprisonment  he  was  released ; the  govern- 
ment of  the  United  States  having  interceded  for  his  freedom. 
After  a great  deal  of  inquiry,  we  have  failed  to  discover  the  cause  of 
his  incarceration. 

We  next  find  Wetzel,  (in  1803,)  engaged  by  Lewis  and  Clark  to 
accompany  them  on  their  expedition  up  the  Missouri  River,  but  for 
some  cause  he  left  them  after  a few  months,  and  for  some  time 


154 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


seems  to  have  drifted  aimlessly  about.  Of  his  later  adventures  we 
have  but  little  record,  and,  in  fact,  not  one  in  ten  of  his  exploits 
has  reached  us.  His  death  occurred  in  1818,  brought  about  by  a 
lingering  fever.  At  this  time  he  was  living  in,  or  near,  Natchez, 
Mississippi.  A braver  man  never  lived  than  this  Indian  hunter, 
and  to  his  recklessness  and  utter  absence  of  fear  he  united  a cunning 
and  penetration  that  would  have  done  honor  to  a higher  station. 

Of  his  brothers — who  were  not  so  noted  as  Lewis — we  shall  have 
but  little  to  say.  Martin  was  as  remorseless  in  his  thirst  for  revenge 
as  any  Indian,  as  the  following  event  will  show:  An  expedition,  of 
which  Col.  Broadhead  was  nominally  the  commander,  organized  for 
a raid  into  the  Indian  country,  and  so  secretly  and  swiftly  did  they 
move  that  an  Indian  village,  on  the  Coshocton  River,  was  sur- 
rounded, and  every  soul  in  it  captured.  In  a council,  held  at  night, 
the  warriors,  sixteen  in  number,  were  doomed  to  death.  In  this 
execution  Martin  Wetzel  worked  with  a will,  and  no  tomahawk  was; 
more  deeply  dyed  with  blood  than  his. 

On  the  next  morning  an  Indian  appeared  on  the  other  bank  of  the 
river,  and  asked  for  the  chief.  Col.  Broadhead  came  forward,  and 
the  savage  proposed  a peace,  as  they  were  ever  willing  to  do  when 
they  sustained  a reverse.  Being  asked  by  the  Colonel  to  send  over 
a chief  to  treat  with  him,  he  expressed  some  doubts  as  to  the  safety 
of  such  a proceeding,  but  being  assured  that  the  representative 
should  not  be  injured,  a fine  looking  warrior  crossed  over  and  began 
a talk  with  Broadhead,  during  which  Martin  Wetzel,  who  had 
secreted  a tomahawk  in  his  hunting  shirt,  stole  behind  him  and  split 
his  skull.  Even  had  the  Colonel  been  willing  to  punish  this  gross 
treachery,  which  is  doubtful,  he  would  have  been  unable  to  do  so, 
as  the  mass  of  the  troops  approved  of  it.  The  next  day  they  began 
their  retreat  with  their  other  prisoners,  twenty  in  number,  but  before 
they  had  marched  a mile,  the  men  began  to  murder  the  captives, 
Martin  Wetzel  being  particularly  active  in  the  slaughter. 

Years  afterward  Martin  was  captured  by  the  Indians,  and  was 
adopted  into  one  of  their  families.  By  his  apparent  satisfaction 
with  his  lot,  he  completely  disarmed  all  suspicion,  and  was  allowed 
the  fullest  liberty.  In  the  fall  of  the  year  he  went  out  with  three 
Indians  to  hunt,  establishing  their  camp  on  the  Sandusky  River 
where,  according  to  one  authority,  he  was  4 ‘careful  to  return  first  to 
camp  to  prepare  wood  for  the  night  and  do  other  little  offices,  to 


OTHER  EXPLOITS  OF  THE  WETZELS. 


155 


render  them  comfortable.”  This  was  done,  says  the  author,  to 
“lull  any  lurking  suspicion  they  might  still  entertain,” 

Continuing  this  for  some  time,  he  met  one  of  his  associates  away 
from  the  camp  one  day  and  shot  him,  concealing  his  body  carefully. 
He  then  made  his  way  to  camp,  and  when  the  other  two  came  in, 
asked  for  the  murdered  man.  The  others  accounted  for  his  absence 
by  saying  he  had  probably  gone  in  search  of  a new  hunting  ground, 
and  did  not  seem  at  all  uneasy  about  him.  That  night  Wetzel 
pondered  over  whether  it  were  better  to  kill  the  other  two  while 
sleeping,  or  to  get  them  separated,  and  thus  run  less  risk. 


SCENE  OF  MARTIN  WETZEL’S  EXPLOIT. 


Deciding  on  the  latter  course,  he  went  to  sleep,  and  the  next  day 
kept  on  the  trail  of  one  of  them,  and  joined  him  late  in  the  evening. 
Suspecting  no  danger,  the  attention  of  the  Indian  was  easily  directed 
to  some  object,  when  Martin  split  his  skull  with  a blow  of  his 
tomahawk.  This  body  being  concealed,  he  hastened  to  camp,  and 
as  the  third  Indian  came  in,  encumbered  with  the  body  of  a fine 
deer,  he  rushed  to  him  as  if  to  assist  him,  and  sank  his  tomahawk 
into  his  brain.  Making  his  way  leisurely  to  the  settlements,  he  was 
greeted  as  a hero,  who  had  performed  a noble  achievement. 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


156 

John  Wetzel,  in  company  with  six  others,  set  out  for  the  Indian 
villages  to  steal  some  horses  from  their  enemies,  this  being  accounted 
by  Indians  and  frontiersmen  legitimate  in  times  of  war.  The  expe- 
dition was  conducted  by  brave  and  cautious  men,  and  they  reached 
the  Indian  town  in  safety,  and  “lifted”  fifteen  fine  horses.  Travel- 
ing rapidly  they  reached  Wells’  Creek,  (now  Cambridge),  on  the 
second  day,  and  the  expedition  would  have  been  crowned  with  suc- 
cess, had  not  Mr.  Linn,  one  of  the  party,  been  taken  very  vio- 
lently ill.  They  could  not  leave  a comrade  in  distress,  so  they 
camped  with  him,  sending  a vidette  back  some  distance,  to  see  if 
they  were  followed.  Keturning  after  some  time,  the  scouts  reported 
no  enemy,  and  as  Linn  could  not  be  moved,  they  left  one  man  as 
guard,  and  all  lay  down  to  sleep. 

In  the  night  the  guard  became  thirsty,  and  dipping  up  some  water 
to  drink,  found  it  quite  muddy.  This  caused  him  to  suspect  that  the 
Indians  might  be  wading  down  the  creek  to  surprise  them.  Awak- 
ening his  comrades,  they  searched  up  the  stream  for  some  distance, 
but  finding  no  cause  for  alarm,  all  lay  down  again  except  the  senti- 
nel. Hardly  had  they  stretched  themselves  out,  until  they  were 
fired  upon  and  the  camp  stormed  by  the  savages,  who  had  ap- 
proached, as  the  sentinel  had  suspected.  Three  men  were  killed  in 
the  camp;  Linn,  Hedges  and  Biggs.  A man  named  McCulloch 
was  in  full  flight  when  he  struck  a quicksand  and  fell,  just  as  the 
Indians  fired  again. 

Thinking  him  dead,  they  went  by  at  full  speed  in  pursuit  of  the 
others,  and  as  soon  as  they  passed  he  pulled  himself  out  of  the  mire, 
and  falling  in  with  one  of  the  others,  John  Hough,  reached  Wheeling 
in  safety.  John  Wetzel  and  a man  named  Dickerson  escaped  togeth- 
er, and  reached  the  same  place.  A body  of  men  was  collected  by 
a Capt.  John  McCulloch,  and  going  to  Wells  Creek  they  found  the 
horribly  mangled  bodies  of  those  who  fell.  The  ill-luck  attending 
this  party  of  brave  and  cautious  men  checked  for  some  time  the 
horse-appropriating  propensities  of  the  settlers,  as  few  could  hope 
to  succeed,  when  men  so  well  qualified  had  failed. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


GENERAL  GEORGE  ROGERS  CLARKE. 


HIS  CHARACTER  AND  TALENTS JUDGMENT  AND  DECISION HIS  BIRTH  AND 

PROFESSION ARRIVAL  IN  KENTUCKY A CAPTAIN  AT  TWENTY-THREE 

PERSONAL  DESCRIPTION FINAL  REMOVAL  TO  KENTUCKY THE 

COMING  STORM DELEGATE  TO  VIRGINIA POOR  POLICY A LAST 

APPEAL DISGUSTED AT  LAST  SUCCESSFUL THE  COUNTY  OF  KEN- 
TUCKY  AMMUNITION  FROM  FORT  PITT CLARKE’S  STATECRAFT  AND 

GENERALSHIP HIS  POLICY  OF  INVASION MARCHES  TO  ILLINOIS  AND 

INDIANA FATHER  GEBAULT FRENCH  ALLIES POSTS  GARRISONED 

CAPTAIN  HELM CLARKE’S  DIPLOMACY DEMANDING  VERSUS  SUE- 

ING INDIAN  ANECDOTE DETROIT GOVERNOR  HAMILTON A DAN- 

GEROUS SITUATION BRITISH  MARCHING  ON  KASKASKIA CLARKE’S 

CONCLUSION. 


Like  Boone,  Clarke  was  not  only  a brave  fighter  in  the  armies, 
but  also  a potent  factor  in  the  destinies  of  the  West.  His  talents 
were  such  as  would  enable  him  to  command  respect  at  any  day  and 
in  any  country,  and  without  doubt  not  only  Kentucky,  but  all  of 
the  then  western  border,  owed  more  to  Clarke  than  to  any  other 
one  man.  Brave  in  action,  he  was  cool  in  council,  and  had  the  intui- 
tion of  genius  in  all  matters  pertaining  to  military  affairs.  Unlike 
most  military  men,  he  also  had  the  deep  foresight  and  broad  spirit  of 
the  true  statesman,  and  his  quickness  of  action  was  only  equaled 
by  his  clearness  of  thought.  In  grasping  the  strength  of  a position, 
as  well  as  in  discerning  the  effects  of  any  given  action,  he  had  but 
few  equals  and  no  superiors. 

By  Napoleon — who  estimated  a blunder  as  worse  than  a crime — 
Clarke  would  have  been  elevated  to  the  highest  position,  for  in  all 
of  his  career  we  can  find  nothing  approaching  to  a mistake.  Appar- 
ently seeing,  by  the  intuitive  force  of  his  genius,  matters  far 
beyond  the  scope  of  other  men,  it  was  his  decision  and  bravery  that 
gave  to  the  United  States  the  larger  part  of  the  territory,  which,  at 
the  breaking  out  of  the  Revolutionary  war,  was  held  by  the  French 
and  English. 

The  birth-place  of  George  Rogers  Clarke  was  Albemarle  County, 
in  the  State  of  Virginia,  that  noble  old  commonwealth  that  has 

157 


158 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


given  to  our  country  so  many  of  her  grandest  men.  The  year  was 
1752.  At  the  age  of  twenty-three  he  made  his  way  to  Kentucky, 
having  prior  to  that  time  commanded  a company  in  Dunmore’s  war. 
His  profession,  like  Washington’s,  was  that  of  a surveyor,  and  its 
pursuit  had  given  to  his  fine  frame  both  strength  and  agility  in  no 
common  degree.  His  military  experience  had  bestowed  upon  him 
a soldierly  bearing,  and  his  features  plainly  showed  the  grandeur 
and  nobility  of  his  mind.  So  inspiring  was  his  appearance  that  we 
find  him  on  this  his  first  visit  to  the  border,  intrusted  with  the 
command  of  the  militia  raised  for  its  defense. 

Returning  the  next  year  (1776),  to  Virginia,  he  then  settled  up 
his  affairs,  preparatory  to  a permanent  removal  to  Kentucky,  and  here 


GENERAL  GEORGE  ROGERS  CLARKE. 


he  showed  the  force  of  his  genius,  and  his  clear  comprehension  of 
the  necessities  of  the  situation.  He  saw  that,  in  the  coming  storm, 
something  more  than  the  irregular  defense  of  isolated  stations  must 
be  done,  if  the  settlers  wished  to  hold  the  land  they  had  grasped  at 
such  imminent  peril,  and  to  which  they  clung  with  unequaled 
courage. 

He  saw  the  necessity  of  some  organized  plan  of  society  and 
defense,  the  enactment  of  laws  for  the  government  of  all,  and  the 
formation  of  bodies  of  men,  to  whom  the  drill  of  the  soldier  should 
add  the  bond  of  unity,  that  supplies  to  the  brave  a sixth  sense — that 
of  mutual  certainty  of  assistance.  He  saw  at  a glance  the  Utopian 


GENERAL  GEORGE  ROGERS  CLARKE. 


159 


character  of  Henderson’s  “Transylvania  Colony,”  and  knew  that 
the  bond  between  Kentucky  and  Virginia  would  be  the  strongest  tie, 
and  that  if  aid  were  forthcoming,  it  must  be  from  the  “Old 
Dominion.” 

This  being  the  case,  he  early  suggested  to  the  Kentuckians  the 
assembling  of  a convention,  in  which  all  important  measures  should 
be  discussed,  and  which  should  delegate  to  commissioners  the  sup- 
plication of  aid  from  the  parent  State.  At  this  convention,  Clarke 
and  Jones  were  chosen  as  delegates  to  the  Virginia  Assembly,  as 
though  Kentucky  was  a county  of  Virginia.  Never  having  been 
formally  recognized  as  citizens  of  Virginia,  the  latter  State,  on  their 
application  for  five  hundred  pounds  of  gun-powder,  could  only  offer 
to  lend  this  important  supply,  and  wished  Clarke  to  guarantee  its 
repayment,  and  also  expected  him  to  defray  all  expense  of  its 
carriage  across  the  mountains. 

Clarke,  wTho  felt  that  this  was  not  the  treatment  the  brave  bor- 
derers deserved,  promptly  refused  these  terms,  and  required  it  as  a 
free  offering  to  the  men,  who  stood  as  a breast-work  between  the 
borders  of  Virginia  and  the  hostile  Indians.  He  showed  them  that, 
if  they  permitted  these  outlying  posts-  to  be  swept  away  by  the 
Indians  and  the  British — who  were  organizing  and  inciting  them  on 
— then  the  tide  of  savage  warfare  would  roll  over  their  own  settle- 
ments, and  they  would  realize,  when  too  late,  the  folly  of  their 
refusal. 

To  all  of  which  remonstrance  the  council  replied  that  they  could 
not  better  their  offer.  Clarke  again  refused,  and  wrote  them, 
re-iterating  his  former  propositions,  showed  them  the  dangers  of  a 
refusal,  intimated  that  they  could  and  would  apply  elsewhere,  and 
with  every  prospect  of  success,  for  what  his  own  State  had  refused, 
and,  in  conclusion,  wound  up  with  the  pregnant  sentence:  “A 
country  which  is  not  worth  defending  is  not  worth  claiming.” 

His  letter  produced  the  desired  result.  After  an  earnest  debate 
it  was  decided  to  recall  Clarke,  and  comply  with  his  demand. 
When  he  appeared,  they  delivered  to  him  an  order  for  the  powder, 
and  for  its  delivery  at  Pittsburgh,  subject  to  his  orders,  for  use  by 
Kentucky,  and,  appearing  that  fall  in  the  convention,  in  his  charac- 
ter of  delegate,  he  was  admitted  to  a seat  as  the  representative  from 
the  County  of  Kentucky. 


1G0 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Clarke  went  with  the  small  force  of  seven  men  for  the  powder 
at  Fort  Pitt,  and  embarking,  conveyed  it  in  safety  to  Limestone, 
(now  Maysville),  though  almost  every  mile  was  beset  with  prowling 
bands  of  hostile  savages.  The  powder  was  now  carefully  secreted 
at  various  points,  and  Clarke  returned  to  the  joyous  settlers  at 
Harrodsburg. 

Already  his  merits  as  a gallant  fighter  and  an  able  commander 
were  recognized.  They  saw  that  the  scope  of  his  mind  was  the 
greatest  of  any  of  the  border  leaders,  and  they  had  already  had  a 
proof  of  his  power  to  organize  order  from  chaos,  and  to  obtain  recog- 
nition and  assistance,  without  which  they  must,  after  all  their  toil, 
hardships  and  dangers,  be  swept  back  before  the  storm  of  Indian 
invasion.  Boone,  never  an  ambitious  man,  was  becoming  old,  and 
besides  he  had  an  unconquerable  modesty  that  forbade  his  thrusting 
himself  forward  as  a rallying  point,  not  only  for  a single  settlement , 
but  for  the  whole  population.  The  time  for  such  a leader  had  now 
come,  and  that  destiny  of  nations,  which  never  leaves  unsupplied  a 
want  of  its  favorites — the  brave  and  the  noble — had  sent  to  the 
Kentuckians  George  Rogers  Clarke. 

Gladly  accepting  the  post,  which  was  the  one  of  greatest  danger, 
as  well  as  of  greatest  honor,  Clarke  began  to  frame  the  only  policy 
which  could  safely  carry  them  through  the  perils  that  beset  them. 
He  saw  that  the  defensive  warfare  of  the  settlers  would  inevitably 
cause  them  to  succumb  to  the  superior  numbers  of  their  enemies, 
and  he  showed  to  them  that  the  smaller  the  nation,  the  more  aggres- 
sive must  be  its  plan  of  battling.  He  persuaded  them  to  beat  up 
the  enemy’s  towns,  destroy  their  crops,  burn  their  habitations,  and 
thus  teach  them  the  horrors  of  invasion. 

He  showed  them,  too,  that  all  of  the  mightiest  efforts  of  the 
savages  were  inspired  by  the  British  officers,  who  held  the  chain  of 
forts,  which  stretched  in  an  unbroken  line  from  Detroit  to  Vincennes. 

“Here,”  said  he,  “will  be  found  the  inspiration  of  the  Indian; 
here,  beneath  the  flaunting  flag  of  Great  Britain,  sits  enthroned  the 
Providence  of  these  accursed  savages.  Fed  with  British  provisions, 
furnished  with  British  arms  and  led  by  British  officers,  we  can  never 
hope  for  peace  until  we  have  swept  away  these  harbors  of  arson  and 
of  murder.  From  these  the  emissaries  of  the  English  king  skulk 
forth  to  incite  the  fiendish  red  men  to  deeds,  that  might  blanch  to 
pallor  the  red  coats  of  his  hirelings,  and  back  to  them  are  brought 


GENERAL  GEORGE  ROGERS  CLARKE.  1G1 

the  scalps  of  your  women  and  children;  your  wives  and  daughters 
for  outrage,  and  your  strong  men  for  “the  hellish  agonies  of  the 
stake.  ” 

Stirred  by  the  speeches  of  Clarke,  as  the  war-horse  by  the  shrill 
notes  of  the  bugle,  the  Kentuckians  swore  to  follow  him  to  death. 
Delighted  to  see  that  his  own  spirit  so  animated  these  men,  Clarke 


FATHER  GEBAULT. 


wrote  fully  to  the  Governor  of  Virginia,  detailing  his  plans  for  the 
accomplishment  of  his  aims,  and  requesting  what  aid  they  might  be 
able  to  send.  Securing  this  aid,  the  expedition  was  speedily  organized 
at  Louisville,  then  known  as  the  Falls  of  the  Ohio,  and  started  down 
the  river  in  boats.  Meeting  a party  of  hunters  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Tennessee  Fiver,  Clarke  learned  froi£  them  that  the  garrisons  at 


1(32 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Kaskaskia  and  Kahokia  were  on  the  alert,  expecting  a visit  from  the 
Kentuckians,  but  he  also  learned  that  the  larger  portion  of  the 
French  would  prefer  American  rule  to  British. 

Taking  these  men  along  as  guides,  they  reached  and  entirely  sur- 
prised Kaskaskia,  taking  it  without  the  shedding  of  a drop  of  blood, 
and  so  winning  upon  the  favor  of  the  inhabitants  by  a judicious 
mixture  of  kindness  and  severity  that  some  of  the  citizens  accom- 
panied them  in  their  capture  of  Kahokia,  (just  opposite  St.  Louis). 
Making  a firm  adherent  of  the  parish  priest,  M.  Gebault,  Clarke 
showed  him  that  the  French  were  now  the  allies  of  the  Americans, 
while  they  were  yet,  as  ever,  the  enemies  of  the  English,  and  the 
priest  consented  to  go  to  Vincennes  in  the  absence  of  its  British 
commander,  who  had  gone  to  Detroit,  and  induce  the  garrison  to 
embrace  the  cause  of  the  Kentuckians.  Clarke  “eked  out  the  cour- 
age of  the  lion  with  the  cunning  of  the  fox”  on  this  occasion, 
because  he  well  knew  that  his  force  was  not  sufficient  to  garrison  the 
two  posts  just  taken,  and  leave  enough  men  to  successfully  attempt 
the  reduction  of  Vincennes.  The  mission  of  the  priest,  however, 
proved  eminently  successful,  and  the  last  named  town  also  floated 
the  American  colors,  and  was  commanded  by  Capt.  Helm,  one  of 
Clarke’s  lieutenants. 

Up  to  this  point  his  instructions  had  been  vague  and  general ; here 
they  ceased  entirely,  and  Clarke  was  thrown  upon  his  own  resources. 
These,  however,  were  unfailing.  Knowing  that  his  work  was  only 
half  done,  and  that  he  must  lose  all  of  the  benefits  of  his  present 
success  if  he  now  stayed  his  hand,  Clarke  began  organizing  a French 
militia,  with  which  to  garrison  his  captured  forts,  appointed  French 
officers  to  commands,  and  was  thus  enabled  to  utilize  his  Kentuckians 
in  his  dealings  with  the  hostile  Indians. 

In  his  treating  with  the  savages,  Clarke — who  was  a deep  student 
of  men — adopted  what  he  had  observed  to  be  the  policy  of  the  French 
and  Spanish  in  their  dealings  with  the  aboriginees.  He  determined 
never  to  ask  or  sue  for  peace,  but  always  harshly  to  demand  what- 
ever he  might  desire  from  the  various  tribes.  His  course  is  a model 
of  the  diplomacy  which  wins  with  the  American  Indian.  The  red 
man  can  never,  even  to  this  day,  comprehend  why  the  whites  will 
offer  peace,  if  they  feel  at  all  confident  that  they  can  attain  their 
purpose  by  war.  Never  making  treaties  themselves,  except  after 
meeting  with  a reverse,  or  in  the  presence  of  a superior  enemy,  they 


GENERAL  GEORGE  ROGERS  CLARKE. 


1(33 


cannot  be  led  to  believe  that  such  a sentiment  can  animate  the  breast 
of  the  white  man,  as  a desire  to  do  justice  to  a weaker  nation 
through  a sense  of  sympathy  and  magnanimity,  hence  Clarke’s  plan 
of  demanding , like  a warrior,  suited  their  ideas  of  power  much 
better  than  asking , like  a squaw,  and  in  every  case  it  was  successful. 

The  bold,  harsh,  and  loud-sounding  words  of  authority  always 
impress  the  Indian  with  a sense  of  respect,  while  the  milder  lan- 
guage of  conciliation  calls  forth  only  his  contempt.  I remember 
being  in  a village  of  the  Ogalalla  Sioux,  at  the  outbreak  of  the  first 
Cheyenne  war,  when  some  of  their  chiefs  had  just  returned  from 
Washington.  They  appeared  in  the  village  resplendant  with  med- 
als, fine  blankets,  silver-mounted  rifles,  and  such  other  judicious  gifts 
as  a discerning  government  usually  gives  to  its  enemies.  To  the 
crowding  Indians  they  told  of  the  villages  of  the  whites,  which,  they 
said,  extended  for  miles  in  every  direction,  and  were  filled  with  im- 
mense lodges  half  a mile  high,  all  crowded  with  men,  women  and 
children. 

They  told  of  the  immense  number  of  the  white  men,  of  the 
thousands  of  guns  they  could  turn  out  in  a day,  of  the  tons  of 
ammunition  produced  in  the  same  time,  and  of  the  cannons,  into 
which  the  biggest  Indian  might  be  easily  loaded.  As  they  discoursed, 
the  wonder  of  the  savages  changed  first  to  incredulity,  and  then  to 
scorn,  that  chiefs,  whom  they  thought  to  be  true  Indians,  could  be 
bought  for  a few  blankets,  some  trinkets  and  a rifle,  to  lie  in  that 
manner,  and  to  endeavor  to  make  them  believe  that  a handful  of 
whites  could  compare  in  numbers  with  the  mighty  Sioux  nation, 
with  its  tribes  of  Ogalallas,  Brule,  Minnieconjon,  Uncpapa,  Teton, 
Yanktonnais,  and  kindred  families.  “Why,”  indignantly  said  one 
of  them,  “if  they  were  so  numerous,  they  would  come  out  and  eat 
us  up  like  buffalo.” 

Clarke  braved  great  dangers  to  show  how  utterly  fearless  he  was 
of  the  bands  which  assembled,  and  after  one  or  two  attempts  on  his 
life — which  his  caution  enabled  him  easily  to  foil — he  forced  them  to 
beg  for  a peace  which  they  had  always  before  indignantly  spurned. 
The  treaty  at  last  concluded,  Clarke  longed  to  lead  an  expedition 
against  Detroit,  since,  if  he  could  succeed  here,  the  British  would  be 
driven  from  all  of  their  strongholds,  but  he  was  unable  to  raise  the 
necessary  force,  and  had  to  content  himself  by  sending  a detachment, 
under  Lieutenant  Bailey,  from  Kaskaskia  and  one  under  Captain 


1G4 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Helm,  from  Vincennes,  to  unite  in  an  attack  on  a British  post  on 
the  Upper  Wabash.  They  succeeded  in  capturing  the  post  and  its 
garrison  of  forty  men. 

These  events  greatly  excited  the  English,  especially  as  they  saw 
the  pernicious  effect  they  were  having,  in  detaching  their  savage 
allies,  and  they  determined  on  active  measures.  When  Clarke  left 
Vincennes,  he  left  the  French  militia  in  charge,  with  only  two  Ameri- 
cans, Capt.  Helm  and  a Mr.  Henry.  On  the  15th  day  of  Decem- 
ber, 1778,  Governor  Henry  Hamilton,  of  Detroit,  appeared  before 
the  town  with  a large  force,  and  the  French  not  daring  to  risk  a 
siege,  instantly  surrendered.  Approaching  the  fort,  Hamilton  was 


ONE  OP  CLARKE’S  FRENCH  MILITIAMEN 


astonished  to  find  himself  confronted  by  a cannon,  and  at  its  breech 
stood  bold  Capt.  Helm,  with  lighted  match.  Calling  a “halt/’  which 
was  promptly  obeyed,  the  captain  awaited  a summons  from 
Hamilton. 

When  it  came,  Helm  told  him  he’d  never  surrender  until  some 
terms  were  agreed  upon.  To  this  Hamilton  answered,  that  he  would 
be  allowed  to  march  out  with  the  honors  of  war,  and  out  he  did 
march,  with  his  solitary  private.  Instead  of  now  attempting  a 
reduction  of  Kaskaskia  and  Kahokia,  as  he  should  have  done,  Ham- 
ilton sent  parties  of  his  men  on  forays  against  the  settlements  along 


GENERAL  GEORGE  ROGERS  CLARKE. 


165 


the  Ohio  River.  Helm  was  held  as  a prisoner  in  easy  captivity, 
and  the  French  militia  disarmed. 

Clarke’s  situation  was  one  of  great  danger,  but  Clarke  was  just 
the  man  to  extricate  himself  from  that  peril,  and  at  the  same  time, 
pluck  from  his  adversary  victory.  He  had  expected  great  things 
from  General  McIntosh,  who  had,  with  a grand  flourish  of  trumpets, 
left  Fort  Pitt  to  reduce  Detroit,  but  that  expedition  proved  a mere 
farce  and  accomplished  nothing,  and  his  shameful  cowardice  cemen- 
ted anew  the  breaking  friendships  of  the  Indians  for  their  English 
friends.  While  Clarke  supposed  the  incompetent  McIntosh  to  be 
pushing  the  siege  of  Detroit,  he  heard  that  Hamilton  was  march- 
ing on  Kaskaskia,  and  the  first  reliable  intelligence  surprised  as 
greatly  as  it  shocked  him.  Hamilton  in  possession  of  Vincennes  ! It 
was  almost  past  belief,  but  latter  intelligence  fully  confirmed  it. 

What  was  he  to  do?  He  had  but  two  hundred  men,  while  Hamil- 
ton had  three  or  four  times  that  number.  It  was  in  the  middle  of 
the  winter  and  he  was  short  of  all  manner  of  supplies.  Almost  the 
entire  country  was  flooded,  and  he  had  but  a single  batteau . How 
many  men  would  have  come  to  the  conclusion  of  the  gallant  Clarke  ? 
He  said  to  those  about  him:  “Whether  I stay  here  or  march  against 
him,  if  I don’t  take  Hamilton,  he’ll  take  me — by  Heaven  I’ll  take 
him  !”  And  take  him  he  did. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


A TERRIBLE  MARCH. 


NOBLE  KENTUCKIANS WAIST  DEEP  IN  WATER UNPARALLELED  HEROISM 

AN  INLAND  SEA COLD,  HUNGER  AND  FATIGUE ON  TO  VINCENNES 

A FORLORN  HOPE THE  BATTLE  SONG THE  WAR  WHOOP THE  ISLAND 

REST THE  FROZEN  WATERS A TIMELY  RESCUE IN  SIGHT  OF  THEIR 

GOAL CAPTURED  CITIZENS A DESPERATE  SITUATION VICTORY  OR 

DEATH THE  SON  OF  TOBACCO CLARKE’S  PROCLAMATION OLD 

“ROUGH  AND  READY’* A CUNNING  MANEUVER SIEGE  OF  VINCENNES 

SURPRISE  OF  HAMILTON BEWILDERED  BRITISH INDIANS  DESERT 

TO  CLARKE STRATAGEMS FEARS  OF  HAMILTON THE  FLAG  OF  TRUCE 

A CONFERENCE “INDIAN  PARTISANS” MAJOR  HAY WILLIAMS’ 

CAPTURE ST.  CROIX’S  SON EXECUTION  OF  SAVAGES THE  DEADLY 

AIM  OF  THE  KENTUCKIANS CAPITULATION CONSEQUENCE CLARKE’S 

REQUEST M’INTOSH’S  FAILURE BUILDS  FORT  JEFFERSON SENT  TO 

OPPOSE  BENEDICT  ARNOLD AUTHORIZED  TO  BESIEGE  DETROIT AN 

INDIAN  CAMPAIGN AFTER  EXPLOITS HIS  SUFFERINGS  AND  DEATH 

REFLECTIONS. 


Through  the  cold  of  the  winter,  the  chilling  rain,  the  mud  and 
the  icy  water,  the  latter  often  three  feet  deep,  Clarke  marched  with 
his  noble  band  of  Kentuckians.  It  was  such  a march  as  the  world 
never  saw  before.  When  he  reached  the  “drowned  lands,”  they 
marched  for  miles  with  the  water  waist  deep ; the  way  was  full  of 
crevasses  and  mud  holes,  in  which  the  men  would  sink  up  to  their 
necks,  often  over  their  heads.  Frequently  they  had  to  swim  for 
short  distances.  An  occasional  spot  of  dry  ground,  a few  yards  in 
extent,  was  as  welcome  to  the  half-drowned  command  as  the  oasis 
to  the  desert  wanderer.  Clarke  ever  led  the  van,  sharing  the  hard- 
ships of  his  men,  outdoing  them  in  his  contempt  for  the  peril  and 
sufferings. 

At  last  they  came  to  the  two  Wabashes,  ordinarily  separated  by 
three  miles  of  dry  ground,  but  now  a solid  sheet  of  water.  This 
lake-like  expanse  spread  out  for  five  miles  from  one  dry  shore  to  the 
other.  The  command  stopped  amazed,  their  enthusiasm  had  given 
place  to  dismay;  at  last  they  had  come  to  an  unsurmountable  obsta- 
cle. Not  so — to  Clarke  there  are  no  such  obstacles.  Moving 
rapidly  to  the  front,  he  dashed  into  the  water,  without  a moment’s 
hesitation,  and  with  a rush  the  entire  command  followed,  with  songs 


A TERRIBLE  MARCH. 


107 


and  cheers.  These  soon  ceased,  however,  as  they  toiled  slowly 
along,  and  it  became  an  irksome  task  to  breathe,  oppressed  as  they 
were  by  the  weight  of  arms,  accoutrements,  and  their  soaked 
garments. 

The  merriment  had  died  away,  but  the  leader  infused  into  the 
fatigued  and  miserable  men  some  portion  of  his  own  dogged  and 
unconquerable  determination.  They  staggered  with  fatigue,  but  as 
they  wearily  stumbled  along,  it  was  ever  forward — there  was  no 
contemplation  of  retreat — if  they  ceased  to  advance,  they  might 
sink  exhausted  in  the  chilling  waters,  but  not  a man  of  them  for  an 
instant  thought  of  deserting  their  noble  leader.  It  was  on  the  7th 
of  February  that  Clarke  had  set  out  on  his  march  of  over  two 
hundred  miles;  it  was  the  17th  when  he  reached  the  Eastern  shore 
of  the  Wabash,  and  came  to  the  lowlands  of  the  Embarrass  River, 
a confluent  of  the  Wabash. 

From  this  point  to  Vincennes  it  was  nine  miles.  Every  foot  of 
the  distance  was  covered  with  deep  water.  Their  provisions  were 
exhausted,  and  if  they  waited  for  the  batteaux,  which  Clarke  had 
sent  ahead  to  use  in  just  such  an  emergency,  the  greater  part  of  the 
command  must  perish  of  cold  and  hunger.  The  situation  was  des- 
perate, but  Clarke  did  not  despair.  Taking  a canoe  he  made  sound- 
ings to  see  if  some  path  might  not  be  found  through  this  inland 
sea. 

There  was  none — the  water  everywhere  reached  to  his  neck.  The 
alarm  of  the  men  was  visible  in  their  faces ; they  could  see  no  escape 
from  death;  their  march  of  untold  hardships  was  to  end  in  the  bit- 
ter death  by  cold  and  starvation.  For  a moment  the  brave  Ken- 
tuckian was  nonplussed,  but  for  a moment  only;  whispering  to  those 
officers  nearest  him  to  follow  his  example,  he  poured  some  powder 
into  his  hand,  wet  it  with  water,  and  blackened  his  face,  and  without 
a moment’s  pause,  gave  a loud  war  whoop  and  dashed  into  the 
water. 

Clarke  says:  “The  party  gazed,  fell  in  one  after  another,  with- 
out saying  a word,  like  a flock  of  sheep.  I ordered  those  near  me 
to  give  a favorite  song.  It  soon  passed  through  the  line,  and  the 
whole  went  on  cheerfully.”  One  of  the  men  luckily  struck  a ridge 
of  high  ground,  and  they  followed  it  until  they  reached  an  island,  and 
there  they  camped.  The  next  morning  the  ice  had  formed  three- 
quarters  of  an  inch  thick,  so  the  reader  may  fancy  the  sufferings  of 


1(58 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


these  men.  Clarke  made  a speech,  and  his  half  starved  and  frozen 
command  again  entered  the  ice-cold  water  with  a rousing  cheer. 


CAPTAIN  HELM. 


On  they  pushed  through  the  broken  ice,  until  the  water  got 
deeper  and  deeper,  and  Clarke  began  to  fear  that  the  weaker  of  the 


A TERRIBLE  MARCH. 


1()<) 

party  would  be  drowned.  He  ordered  the  canoes  he  had  captured 
on  the  river  to  hasten  to  land  with  their  loads,  and  with  all  possible 
celerity  to  ply  back  and  forth,  picking  up  the  men. 

To  cheer  their  drooping  spirits,  he  sent  some  of  the  strongest 
men  forward,  with  instructions  “to  pass  back  the  word  that  the 
water  was  getting  shallow,  and  when  getting  near  the  woods  to  cry 
out,  land — land!”  The  wTater,  says  Clarke,  “never  got  shallow.” 
When  they  reached  the  timber  the  water  was  up  to  their  shoulders, 
but  here  they  could  hang  to  the  trees,  bushes  and  logs  until  rescued 
by  the  canoes.  Some  gained  the  shore  in  safety;  some,  when  they 
reached  the  land  and  were  deprived  of  the  buoyant  assistance  of  the 
water,  fell,  half  in  and  half  out  of  it,  upon  the  bank. 

Clarke  says  of  the  island  they  reached:  “This  was  a delight- 
ful, dry  spot  of  about  ten  acres,”  but  it  can  easily  be  fancied  that 
any  spot  of  dry  land,  no  matter  how  barren  and  deserted,  would 
have  seemed  an  Eden  to  these  poor  fellows.  The  weaker  of  the  half 
frozen  men  were  restored  by  walking  between  two  of  the  stronger. 
Here  chance  threw  into  their  way  a canoe  load  of  Indian  squaws  and 
children,  who  had  with  them  some  buffalo  meat,  tallow,  corn  and 
cooking  utensils. 

Broth  was  quickly  made  and  served  out  to  the  weakest;  in  fact, 
nearly  all  got  a taste.  From  here  they  ferried,  in  the  canoes,  to 
Warrior’s  Island,  within  two  miles  of  the  town,  and  in  plain  view 
of  it.  Clarke  says:  “Every  man  feasted  his  eyes  and  forgot  he  had 
suffered.  It  was  now  we  had  to  display  our  abilities.  The  plain 
between  us  and  the  town  was  not  a perfect  level.  The  sunken 
grounds  were  covered  with  water  full  of  ducks.  We  observed  sev- 
eral out  on  horseback  shooting  them,  and  sent  out  many  of  our 
active  young  Frenchmen  to  decoy  and  take  one  prisoner,  which  they 
did.  Learned  that  the  British  had  that  evening  completed  the  wall 
of  the  fort,  and  that  there  were  a good  many  Indians  in  town: 
our  situation  was  now  truly  critical ; no  possibility  of  retreat  in  case 
of  defeat,  and  in  full  view  of  a town  with  six  hundred  men  in  it — 
troops,  Indians  and  inhabitants. 

“We  were  now  in  the  situation  that  I had  labored  to  get  our- 
selves in.  The  idea  of  being  taken  prisoner  was  foreign  to  almost 
every  man,  as  they  expected  nothing  but  torture.  We  knew  that 
nothing  but  the  most  daring  conduct  would  insure  success.  I knew 
that  a number  of  the  inhabitants  wished  us  well ; that  the  Grand 


170 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Chief — Tobacco’s  son — had  openly  declared  himself  a friend  to  the 
Big  Knives  (Americans).  I therefore  wrote  and  sent  the  following 
placard : 

To  the  Inhabitants  of  Post  Vincennes: 

Gentlemen — Being  now  within  two  miles  of  your  village  with  my  army,  deter- 
mined to  take  your  fort  this  night,  and  not  being  willing  to  surprise  you,  I take  this 
method  to  request  such  as  are  true  citizens  to  remain  still  in  your  houses.  Those, 
if  any  there  be,  that  are  friends  to  the  king,  will  instantly  repair  to  the  fort,  join 
the  “ hair  buyer  ” general,  and  fight  like  men.  If  any  such  do  not  go,  and  are 
found  afterwards,  they  may  depend  on  severe  punishment.  On  the  contrary, 
those  who  are  true  friends  to  liberty  may  depend  on  being  well  treated,  and  I 
once  more  request  them  to  keep  out  of  the  streets.  Every  one  I find  in  arms  on 
my  arrival,  I shall  treat  as  an  enemy. 

G.  It.  CLAKKE.” 

Was  there  ever  more  desperate  courage,  more  indomitable  deter- 
mination displayed,  than  on  this  mid-winter  march,  through  a 
flooded  country,  that  might  almost  be  called  an  inland  sea  ? And  then 
the  daring  impudence,  which  in  its  bold  assumption  reaches  the  sub- 
lime, of  a leader  with  two  hundred  half-starved,  half-frozen  and 
undrilled  troops,  confidently  disposing  of  a garrison  of  six  hundred 
well  drilled,  fed  and  clad  men,  behind  the  walls  of  a fort,  before  ever  a 
shot  had  been  fired  ! It  was  an  assurance  so  grandly  heroic,  that  it 
reached  to  the  height  of  genius.  It  was  like  Taylor’s  remark  to 
one  of  his  staff  at  Buena  Yista,  when  the  clouds  of  charging  Mexi- 
cans seemed  about  to  wipe  out  his  hardy  volunteers,  with  the  sheer 
force  of  their  overwhelming  numbers : “Yes,  yes,  they  are  five  to 
one,  but  I’d  just  as  lief  whip  ’em  that  way  as  man  to  man.” 

Marching  on  to  the  town,  Clarke  took  advantage  of  the  last  knoll 
between  him  and  the  place,  to  march  his  men  across  it  several  times, 
running  them  around  its  base  and  starting  them  in  at  the  rear  again, 
thus  making  a show  as  if  he  had  a large  force.  Cautious  not  to 
enter  the  town  before  dark,  for  fear  the  garrison  might  discover  his 
weakness,  he  then  seized  all  of  the  strong  positions  that  commanded 
the  fort.  So  bold  was  his  dash  on  these  points  that  Law  says  the 
English  commander  could  not  believe  it  was  the  enemy,  but  attribu- 
ted the  firing  to  some  drunken  Indians  without  the  walls  of  the  fort. 

One  hundred  of  these  Indians,  seeing  the  boldness  of  the  Ken- 
tuckians, immediately  transferred  their  allegiance  from  the  British, 
and  were  anxious  to  join  in  an  assault  on  the  post.  The  unerring 
aim  of  the  skillful  borderers  soon  silenced  the  cannon  of  the  fort, 
as  no  sooner  was  a port-hole  thrown  open  than  the  gunners  were 


A TERRIBLE  MARCH. 


171 


shot  down  at  their  pieces.  Every  stratagem  was  used  to  cause 
Hamilton  to  think  his  opponents  were  in  heavy  numbers,  and  they 
succeeded  most  admirably.  The  fort  was  now  summoned  to  sur- 
render, but  Hamilton,  fearful  of  receiving  the  treatment  he  so  richly 


deserved,  declined.  Clarke  now  opened  a heavier  fire  upon  the  fort, 
so  that  not  a soul  could  open  a port  or  expose  himself  in  any  man- 
ner, without  being  shot.  Clarke  had  even  determined  on  an  assault, 
when  a flag  of  truce  was  sent  to  him,  in  which  Hamilton  proposed  a 
three  days’  truce  and  anjmmediate  conference. 


172 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


The  truce  was  promptly  declined,  as  Clarke  had  no  idea  of 
having  his  strength  exposed,  nor  of  waiting  until  the  detached  parties 
of  the  British  and  Indians  could  come  up.  To  the  conference  he 
assented.  During  this  conference  they  were  unable  to  come  to  terms, 
and  when  Hamilton  asked  why  better  could  not  be  allowed,  Clarke 
replied  to  him  that  he  had  force  enough  to  take  the  fort  by  storm 
at  any  time  he  chose,  but  that  he  proposed  to  pick  up  Hamilton’s 
detatched  parties  as  they  came  in,  and  then  having  disposed  of  them, 
he  would  attend  to  the  fort  at  his  leisure,  and  thus,  at  one  stroke, 
would  make  sure  of  all  those,  who  made  a practice  of  harassing 
the  American  frontier. 

Another  thing  was,  that  his  Kentuckians  had  determined  to  give 
to  the  Indians  and  “Indian  partisans”  a touch  of  the  treatment  they 
bestowed  on  their  captives.  In  a surrender,  while  he  felt  disposed 
to  gratify  them,  he  could  not  do  so,  but  in  case  of  a storm  he 
intended  to  do  as  the  British  officers  had  so  often  done — close  his 
eyes  and  let  his  men  use  their  own  pleasure.  This  terrified  beyond 
measure  Major  Hay,  one  of  the  most  active  of  these  Indian  leaders, 
and  he  was  scarcely  able  to  make  his  way  back  to  the  fort.  This 
conference  had  hardly  concluded  when  a party  of  Indians,  led  by  a 
white  man  painted  as  an  Indian,  were  seen  approaching  the  town. 

Captain  Williams  was  sent  out  to  meet  them  and  the  Indians, 
thinking  them  a part  of  the  English  garrison,  let  them  approach 
within  a few  yards,  when  the  Kentuckians  fired  and  two  were  killed 
and  three  others  wounded.  The  victorious  war-whoops  of  the  sav- 
ages died  upon  their  lips  and  they  turned  in  flight,  but  the  remain- 
ing six  were  soon  prisoners.  These  Indians  were  promptly  taken  in 
plain  view  of  the  fort,  tomahawked  and  their  bodies  thrown  into  the 
river.  The  white  man  was  discovered  to  be  the  son  of  Lieutenant 
St.  Croix,  one  of  Clarke’s  adherents,  and  at  his  intercession,  and  on 
account  of  his  mother’s  earnest  prayer,  was  spared. 

The  Indians  within  the  fort,  when  they  saw  that  the  English  were 
unable  to  protect  them,  became  at  once  enraged  and  frightened. 
This  was  the  result  that  Clarke  had  calculated  on,  in  having  the 
prisoners  tomahawked,  and  no  doubt  this  had  its  effect  in  bringing 
about  the  capitulation  on  the  24th. 

This  conquest  gave  to  the  Kentuckians  fifty  thousand  dollars  worth 
of  military  stores,  detached  the  Indians  from  the  English,  and  dis- 
possessed the  British  of  all  of  the  northwestern  territory,  which 


A TERRIBLE  MARCH. 


173 


otherwise  would  have  been  held  by  them  when  peace  was  concluded, 
and  must  have  materially  altered  the  status  of  the  British  possess- 
ions in  America. 

Clarke,  at  this  time,  was  only  twenty-seven  years  of  age,  and  to 
the  enthusiasm  of  youth  he  joined  the  daring  ambition  of  the  born 
soldier,  ever  unsatiated.  He  asked  for  more  men,  and  promised  to 
do  what  McIntosh  had  failed  to  effect.  He  would  take  Detroit,  and 
by  driving  the  English  from  their  last  stronghold,  forever  destroy 
their  power,  and  prevent  their  Indian  combinations.  The  men  were 
promised,  but  never  came,  and  it  is  said  that  in  the  agony  of  his 
restiveness  and  his  forced  inaction,  he  took  to  drink  for  relief  and 
sought  in  the  oblivion  of  that  lethe  to  drown  his  unconquerable 
ambition. 

Retiring  to  the  Falls  of  the  Ohio,  Clarke  rested  in  partial  inac- 
tion for  some  time.  About  the  year  1780  he  built  Fort  Jefferson, 
on  the  Mississippi  River.  After  his  Ohio  campaign  against  the  hos- 
tile Indians,  he  went  to  Richmond  to  appeal  in  person  for  the  means 
necessary  for  his  cherished  scheme  of  taking  Detroit.  His  plans 
were  approved,  but  the  measure  dragged,  and  before  it  could  be  put 
into  effect,  Clarke  and  Baron  Steuben  were  appointed  to  a command 
to  check  the  aggressive  operations  of  the  infamous  traitor,  Benedict 
Arnold.  During  this  service  he  was  appointed  a Brigadier-General, 
and  wTas  authorized  to  collect  a large  force,  which  was  to  rendezvous 
at  Louisville,  (Falls  of  the  Ohio),  and  sweeping  with  celerity  and 
secresy  through  the  country  of  the  hostile  Indians,  to  fall  upon 
Detroit. 

The  force  was  never  collected,  and  the  grand  genius  of  the  man 
was  forced  to  waste  itself  in  petty  operations  against  the  marauding 
bands  of  the  Ohio  Indians.  In  1782  occurred  the  unfortunate  bat- 
tle at  the  Blue  Licks,  and  Clarke,  rallying  a force  of  a thousand  men, 
hastily  invaded  the  Indian  towns,  but  his  efforts  failed  of  their 
proper  effect,  owing  to  the  savages  having  fled  from  their  villages, 
and  scattered,  so  as  to  render  pursuit  by  an  army  impossible. 

Fortune  had  forsaken  her  favorite;  he  lost  his  old-time  confidence 
in  his  destiny,  (for  Clarke  was  a thorough  fatalist),  and  even  his 
popularity  began  to  decrease.  In  1786  he  led  another  expedition  of 
one  thousand  men  against  the  Indians  on  the  Wabash,  but  his  former 
magnetism — that  could  inspire  a march  of  two  hundred  miles,  unpar- 
alleled in  the  annals  of  savage  or  civilized  warfare,  for  its  heroic 


174 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


daring,  its  terrible  difficulties  and  its  successful  termination — seems 
to  have  utterly  failed  him.  The  men  were  mutinous,  ill  omens  pur- 
sued him  from  the  very  outset,  and  the  expedition  was  finally 
abandoned. 

Years  afterward  he  was  tendered  and  accepted  a commission  in 
the  French  armies,  with  the  rank  of  Major-General,  and  was  about 
to  lead  an  expedition  against  the  Spaniards,  on  the  Mississippi,  when 
this  was  frustrated  by  a revolution  in  France,  which  overturned  the 
party  in  power  and  destroyed  the  plans,  whose  acc^™^lishment  might 
have  again  raised  him  to  fame. 

Neglect  and  disease  had  soured  his  temper,  and  shunning  his 
former  comrades,  he  led  a life  whose  isolation  and  loneliness  were 
pitiable.  Added  to  this,  he  endured  agonies  from  the  rheumatism, 
contracted  doubtless  during  the  terrible  exposure  of  his  numerous 
campaigns.  At  forty  years  of  age,  mental  and  physical  agony  had 
made  him  as  decrepid  almost  as  an  octogenarian,  and  in  1817  he 
died  of  paralysis  at  Louisville,  which  had  been  the  scene  of  so  many 
of  his  former  triumphs  and  so  much  of  his  later  sufferings. 

When  we  look  back  over  the  life  of  this  man,  and  see  its  early 
promise  and  its  glorious  youth,  we  can  but  mark  its  sad  contrast  with 
his  manhood  of  neglect  and  its  glorious  opportunities  lost  through 
no  fault  of  his  own,  but  wasted  in  an  unavailing  struggle  against  a 
baffling  fate.  When  we  think  of  what  might  have  been  his  career, 
under  more  propitious  auspices,  or  in  more  extended  fields,  it  is  with 
that  sadness  of  regret  with  which  we  behold  the  closely  caged  eagle 
beating  out  its  life  against  the  bars  of  its  narrow  prison,  and  death 
becomes  a welcome  intruder  upon  the  scene.  With  noble  old  Kent 
we  hail  him  as  the  sufferer’s  friend,  and  like  him  we  are  ready  to 
exclaim : 

“Vex  not  his  ghost,  oh  let  him  pass  ! 

He  hates  him,  that  would  upon  the  rack  of  this  rough  world, 

Stretch  him  out  longer.” 


CHAPTER  XYIT. 


COLONEL  WILLIAM  CRAWFORD. 


TORTURE  AT  THE  STAKE CANNIBALISM CONSIDERATIONS  OF  ITS  CAUSES 

THE  BURNING  OF  CRAWFORD WHO  HE  WAS AN  ILL-FATED  EX- 
PEDITION  SKULKING  SAVAGES INSUBORDINATION ILL  OMENS A 

SPIRITED  ATTACK FIERCE  FIGHTING THE  SECOND  DAY’S  BATTLE 

A NIGHT  RETREAT SLOVER,  THE  GUIDE A LIGHT  VOLLEY THE  PANIC 

“SAVE  YOURSELVES” THE  PURSUIT THE  INDIAN  TOMAHAWK 

THE  HEROIC  DR.  KNIGHT CRAWFORD’S  RELATIONS A FOOLISH  COM- 
PANION  EXHAUSTED  HORSES BIGGS  AND  ASHLEY A VIOLENT  RAIN 

STORM FIND  A DEER ANOTHER  COMRADE A HEARTY  BREAKFAST 

Crawford’s  folly the  capture interview  with  girty 

EMPTY  PROMISES CAPTAIN  PIPE WINGENUND TYPICAL  INDIANS 

THE  INSIGNIA  OF  DEATH A BITTER  ENEMY. 


It  is  a singular  fact  that,  while  the  Indians  made  a regular  practice 
of  torturing  their  male  prisoners,  whether  taken  in  battle  or  captured 
in  times  of  peace,  so  few  accounts  have  ever  been  given  in  detail  of 
the  horrible  torture  of  “the  stake.”  It  is  alleged,  upon  the 
authority  of  the  earliest  explorers,  that  they  often  heard  from  the 
Indians  themselves  that  some  of  the  tribes  were  cannibals,  and  if 
this  was  ever  the  case,  that  might  account  for  the  origin  of  this 
hellish  practice,  whose  cause  may  have  been  similar  to  that  of  the 
same  habit  in  another  people. 

It  is  told,  with  a great  show  of  probability,  that  the  cannibalism 
of  some,  if  not  all,  of  the  Africans,  arose  from  the  premeditated 
purpose  of  frightening  their  enemies.  A small  tribe  found  them- 
selves going  to  the  wall  in  a war  with  a more  numerous  one,  and 
after  a battle,  in  which  they  had  captured  some  prisoners,  the  latter 
were  roasted  and  eaten  in  full  view  of  their  enemies.  After  this 
they  began  to  gain  ground,  for  while  their  opponents  could  fight 
bravely  through  all  the  chances  of  death,  yet  they  could  not  bear 
the  prospect  of  being  entombed  in  the  stomachs  of  their  ferocious 
enemies.  The  habit,  once  contracted,  is  rarely,  if  ever,  discontinued. 
I have  been  assured  by  old  Louis  Keysburg — who  became  a can- 
nibal in  the  terrible  winter  mountain  camp  of  Donner’s  party  of 
California  immigrants — that  human  flesh  is  the  most  delightful  of  all 
yiands,  and  once  tasted,  the  most  difficult  to  relinquish. 

175 


176 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


In  whatever  way  they  were  first  led  into  it,  it  is  certain  that  from 
the  earliest  arrival  of  the  white  men  in  America  up  to  the  present 
time,  burning  their  prisoners  at  the  stake  has  prevailed  amongst  all 
of  the  savage  tribes,  and  was  the  common  mode  of  disposing  of 
their  captives  by  the  nations  which  endeavored  to  drive  back  the 
flood  of  invading  whites  that,  flowing  like  a resistless  tide  across  the 
Alleghanies,  swept  back  the  red  men  from  the  borders  of  their 
beloved  Kentucky.  In  the  account  of  the  burning  of  Col.  Crawford, 
so  graphically  told  by  Dr.  Knight,  who  accompanied  him  on  his  ill- 
fated  expedition,  we  are  enabled  to  see  the  fiendish  nature  of  the 
Indian  of  that  time ; and  as  were  the  Shawnee  and  Delaware  of  that 
day,  so  I have  found  the  Cheyenne,  Sioux  and  Apache  of  this. 

In  the  spring  of  1782  the  irruptions  of  the  northwestern  Indians 
into  Western  Virginia  and  Pennsylvania  had  become  so  frequent 
and  so  deadly  as  to  demand  prompt  vengeance,  and  as  it  was  thought 
that  they  could  be  most  effectually  stopped  by  invading  the  country 
of  the  enemy,  an  expedition  was  determined  on,  and  Col.  William 
Crawford,  a brave  officer  of  the  Revolutionary  war,  was  selected  as 
commander.  The  rendezvous  was  fixed  for  May  20th,  1782,  at  a 
point  on  the  western  shore  of  the  Ohio,  forty  miles  above  Fort  Pitt. 
The  number  of  volunteers  was  four  hundred  and  fifty,  and  in  order 
that  the  wounded  might  have  immediate  attention,  Dr.  Knight,  an 
accomplished  surgeon,  was  induced  by  Col.  Crawford  to  accompany 
the  troops. 

The  march  was  begun  May  25th,  and  on  May  29th  some  of  the 
volunteers  broke  ranks  and  started  for  their  homes,  a circumstance 
which  did  not  speak  well  for  the  discipline  of  the  body.  On  the 
next  day  Major  Brunton  and  Captain  Bean,  being  in  advance  of  the 
main  body,  saw  and  fired  on  two  skulking  Indians,  but  they  escaped, 
and  all  felt  that  secresy  was  now  out  of  the  question.  It  was  as  plainly 
to  be  seen  that  there  was  a spirit  of  discontent  animating  a portion 
of  the  men,  and  it  probably  would  have  been  the  wisest  thing  to 
sift  out  the  unwilling,  or  else  to  discontinue  the  expedition. 

The  eleventh  day’s  march  developed  a decided  spirit  of  insub- 
ordination, and  the  men  demanded  to  be  led  back  to  their  homes, 
declaring  that  their  horses  were  jaded  and  their  provisions  rapidly 
becoming  exhausted.  As  a compromise,  the  officers  requested  them 
to  continue  one  day  longer,  and  then,  if  no  Indians  were  found,  they 
would  return.  As  McClungsays:  “What  other  result  than  that 


COLONEL  WILLIAM  CRAWFORD . 


177 


which  we  are  about  to  record  could  have  been  anticipated  from  such 
officers  and  such  men?  ” 

This  council  had  not  broken  up  before  one  of  the  advance  pickets 
dashed  in,  and  reported  the  Indians  drawn  up  in  some  open  timber  a 
mile  or  two  ahead.  The  murmurs  ceased,  the  advance  began,  and  all 
seemed  anxious  for  the  action  to  open.  As  they  moved  forward, 
Crawford,  who  was  a man  of  fine  military  judgment,  saw  that  the 
enemy  had  seized  a position  of  strength,  from  which  they  must  be  dis- 
lodged, and  it  was  necessary  to  accomplish  this  before  their  rein- 
forcements arrived.  Dismounting  his  men,  they  charged  the  Indians 
boldly  in  front  and  on  both  flanks,  and  swept  them  from  the  wood. 
They  were  not  a moment  too  < n,  for  the  savages  began  swarming 
around  them,  every  hour  bringing  up  heavy  reinforcements. 

The  action  became  serious,  the  enemy  making  the  greatest  efforts 
to  drive  Crawford  from  the  timber,  fighting,  as  is  their  manner, 
from  every  covert  of  tree,  grass  and  hillock.  Crawford  bravely 
maintained  his  hold  upon  his  point  of  vantage,  and  after  a sharp, 
fierce  fire,  lasting  from  four  o’clock  in  the  afternoon  until  night,  the 
savages  withdrew,  and  the  whites  slept  upon  the  field  of  action. 

The  next  day  the  action  was  renewed  at  long  range,  and  no  charge 
was  made ; desultory  and  almost  harmless  firing  being  kept  up  on 
both  sides  until  night.  The  officers  of  the  whites  now  called  a coun- 
cil, and  as  it  could  be  seen  that  the  numbers  of  their  enemies  were 
being  constantly  augmented,  they  decided  that  a rapid,  but  orderly, 
retreat  had  now  become  necessary,  since  there  was  no  possibility  for 
them  to  defeat  the  Indians,  and  it  was  even  doubtful  if  they  could 
hold  their  present  position  against  a charge  of  their  overpowering 
enemies.  This  resolution  was  made  known  to  the  troops,  man  by 
man,  so  that  its  secresy  would  be  insured  and  that  there  might  be  no 
unnecessary  panic  in  executing  it.  At  nine  o’clock  all  of  their 
arrangements  had  been  effected ; all  the  videttes,  except  Slover,  their 
guide,  had  been  called  in;  the  troops  formed  in  three  parallel  lines, 
with  the  wounded  in  the  center,  and  the  retreat  began. 

This  was  a trying  moment  for  raw  troops,  who  had  neither  had 
the  training  of  regular  soldiers,  nor  the  iron  courage  and  fortitude 
of  such  men  as  Boone,  Kenton  and  Wetzel,  and  it  needed  but  little 
to  change  their  retreat  into  a rout.  This  came  sooner  than  was  to 
have  been  anticipated,  for  they  had  not  advanced  more  than  a hun- 
dred yards  from  their  position,  when  a light  volley  was  heard  in  t$he 
direction  of  the  Indian  lines. 


178 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


The  cause  of  this  volley  is  a mystery;  whether  intended  by  the 
Indians  as  a signal,  or  whether  they  detected  some  movement 
amongst  the  whites,  and  in  order  to  deter  them  from  a night  attack — 
never  met  with  any  great  degree  of  bravery  by  the  Indians — fired  to 


COLONEL  WILLIAM  CRAWFORD  AT  THE  AGE  OF  FORTY. 


show  that  they  were  on  the  alert,  was  never  known,  but  its  effect 
on  these  raw  troops  was  direful.  They  showed  symptoms  of 
unsteadiness,  and  this  not  being  promptly  and  severely  checked  by 
their  officers,  some  dastard  in  the  front  rank  brought  about  the  final 


COLONEL  WILLIAM  CRAWFORD. 


179 


catastrophe,  by  shouting  in  a loud  voice,  “The  enemy  have  found 
out  our  design — save  yourselves — save  yourselves  !” 

In  a second  the  panic  was  general,  and  so  great  was  the  uproar  of 
the  howling,  flying  mob,  that  it  was  plainly  heard  in  the  lines  of  the 
Indians,  and  its  import  guessed  immediately.  “Out,  men,  and  pick 
up  the  stragglers,  the  Americans  have  whipped  themselves!” 
shouted  Simon  Girty,  and  then  the  pursuit  began.  The  miserable 
wounded  had  been  dropped  at  the  beginning  of  the  rout,  and  they 
were  speedily  dispatched  by  the  tomahawks  of  the  savages.  Dr. 
Knight  was  in  the  rear  when  the  panic  began,  but  being  well  mounted 
he  spurred  ahead,  and  overtook  Col.  Crawford,  who  was  calling  with 
a loud  voice  for  his  son,  son-in-law,  and  nephews. 

Overtaking  him,  he  asked,  “Is  that  you,  Doctor?”  to  which 
Knight  replied,  “Yes,  Colonel;  I am  the  hindmost  man,  I believe.” 
“No,  no,”  replied  Crawford  anxiously,  “my  son  is  in  the  rear  yet, 
I have  not  been  able  to  hear  of  him  in  front.  Do  not  leave  me, 
Doctor,  my  horse  has  about  given  out.  I cannot  keep  up  with  the 
troops,  and  wish  a few  of  my  best  friends  to  stay  with  me.” 

With  heroic  bravery,  Knight  told  him  that  he  could  depend  upon 
him  to  the  last,  and  checking  his  horse,  he  waited  beside  the  Colonel 
until  the  last  straggler  had  passed  them.  Still  there  was  no  tidings 
of  the  Colonel’s  relatives,  but  as  it  was  useless  to  wait  longer,  they 
rode  on  as  rapidly  as  possible,  Crawford  greatly  dejected  at  the 
uncertainty  of  the  fate  of  those  so  dear  to  him.  About  a mile 
ahead  they  heard  rapid  firing,  with  loud  shouting,  and  thinking  the 
Indians  had  intercepted  the  main  body  of  the  fugitives,  they 
changed  their  course  to  the  right,  moving  South  for  about  an  hour, 
and  then  started  East  again.  Along  with  Knight  and  the  Colonel 
were  an  old  man  and  a boy,  and  whenever  the  former  began  to  lag 
behind,  he  shouted  loudly  for  them  to  wait  for  him.  . 

This  he  continued,*  in  spite  of  all  remonstrance,  until  they  came  to 
Sandusky  Creek.  Here  he  again  fell  to  the  rear,  and  gave  his 
usual  cry.  A loud  hallo  was  heard  near  where  the  old  man 
stood,  and  thinking  themselves  surrounded  by  Indians,  the  others 
sat  still  for  a few  minutes,  but  hearing  nothing  more  of  the  old 
man,  they  rode  on.  What  was  his  fate  they  never  knew.  At 
daybreak  the  horses  of  Crawford  and  the  boy  sank  exhausted. 
Continuing  on  foot,  they  joined  company  with  Captain  Biggs,  a 
brave,  generous  man,  and  a thorough  border  hero.  He  had  given 


180 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


up  his  horse  to  Lieutenant  Ashley,  who  was  badly  wounded,  and 
was  walking  along  leading  the  horse,  with  his  trusty  rifle  in  his  hand. 
They  were  compelled  to  camp  and  form  a rude  shelter  of  bark  at 
three  o’clock  that  afternoon,  on  account  of  a violent  rain  storm. 
Here  they  built  a fire,  and  remained  all  night. 

The  next  morning,  while  on  the  march,  they  came  across  a deer, 
which  had  been  lately  killed ; this  they  appropriated  and  carried 
along,  intending  to  cook  it  when  occasion  offered.  A little  farther 
on  they  came  across  a camp-fire,  which  had  not  been  long  abandoned. 
Here  they  cooked  their  venison,  and  noticing  a white  man  skulking 
along  their  trail,  they  called  to  him,  and  found  out  he  was  one  of 
their  soldiers.  He  told  them  he  had  killed  the  deer  they  found,  but 
hearing  them  coming,  had  taken  to  the  woods,  fearing  they  were 
foes.  All  now  breakfasted  heartily,  and  then  continued  their  flight, 
and  at  noon  reached  the  trail  by  which  they  had  marched  to  the 
Indian  towns.  Here  a council  was  held  to  determine  whether  they 
should  continue  through  the  woods,  or  take  the  open  trail. 

Common  sense  would  seem  to  have  indicated  the  former  as  the 
proper  course,  and  Knight  and  Biggs  voted  to  take  it,  but  Crawford 
insisted  upon  keeping  to  the  trail,  as  he  was  sure  the  Indians  had 
long  since  discontinued  the  pursuit.  They  suffered  themselves  to 
be  persuaded  against  their  judgment,  and  continued  on  the  beaten 
track.  Crawford  and  Knight  took  the  advance,  on  foot;  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  yards  behind  came  Biggs  and  Ashley,  both  mounted, 
the  Doctor  having  lent  Biggs  his  horse,  and  in  the  rear  followed  the 
boy  and  the  man  who  had  last  joined  them. 

They  had  not  proceeded  more  than  a mile  in  this  order,  when 
several  Indians — who  were  secreted  near  the  trail — sprang  up,  and 
with  levelled  guns  demanded  a halt.  Knight,  who  seems  to  have 
been  a man  of  courage  and  great  quickness,  sprang  behind  a large 
black  oak,  cocked  his  gun  and  aimed  at  the  foremost  Indian,  when 
Crawford,  who  had  made  no  effort  to  escape,  called  to  him  hastily 
not  to  fire.  The  Indian  then  ran  to  Crawford,  shook  him  by  the 
hand,  and  appeared  delighted  to  see  him,  Knight  all  the  time 
remaining  behind  his  tree,  with  his  cocked  rifle.  Crawford  now 
called  again  to  the  Doctor,  ordering  him  to  put  down  his  gun,  and 
Knight,  with  great  reluctance,  obeyed. 

The  Indians  next  told  Crawford  to  order  Biggs  and  Ashley  to 
surrender,  and  he  promptly  did  so,  but  Biggs  only  cocked  his  rifle 


COLONEL  WILLIAM  CEAWrORl). 


181 


and  fired  at  one  of  the  savages,  unhappily  missing  him,  and  he  and 
Ashley  spurred  into  the  woods  and  would  have  escaped,  but  very 
foolishly  returned  to  the  road  further  on,  and  were  killed  and 
scalped  by  a party  of  five  Delawares.  The  footmen  dashed  into  the 
woods  and  made  good  their  escape. 

That  evening  Crawford  and  Knight  were  taken  to  the  Indian 
camp,  and  in  the  mornkig,  (June  10th),  with  nine  other  prisoners, 
were  conducted  to  the  Indian  town  of  Old  Sandusky,  about  thirty- 


WIDOW  OP  COLONEL  CRAWFORD. 


five  miles  distant.  When  within  a few  miles  of  the  town,  the  Indians 
camped  for  the  night,  but  Crawford  was  very  anxious  to  see  Simon 
Girty,  and  pursuaded  his  captors  to  take  him  on  into  the  town.  They 
did  so,  and  he  had  a long  interview  with  the  renegade.  On  the  next 
morning  he  was  taken  back  to  the  camp,  so  as  to  be  driven  into  the 
town  along  with  the  other  captives.  Knight  enquired  most  anxiously 
as  to  the  success  of  his  mission,  and  the  Colonel  told  him  he  had 
seen  Girty,  and  the  latter  had  promised  to  use  his  influence  in 
behalf  of  himself,  (Crawford),  but  he  was  fearful  that  he  could 


182 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


effect  nothing,  as  Captain  Pipe,  a Delaware  chief,  was  using  every 
endeavor  to  have  all  of  the  prisoners  burned.  He  had  also  heard 
that  his  son-in-law,  Col.  Harrison,  and  his  nephew,  William  Craw- 
ford, were  to  be  treated  well  by  their  captors,  the  Shawnese.  This 
was  a willful  lie  on  the  part  of  Girty. 

In  the  town,  Captain  Pipe  and  Wingenund — celebrated  Delaware 
chiefs — came  to  them ; the  former  a typical  Indian,  uniting  to  the 
blandness  and  oily  address  of  the  cringing  courtier  the  malignity  of 
the  savage  and  the  blood-thirsty  ferocity  of  the  skulking  panther. 
With  his  own  hand  he  painted  every  prisoner  black,  and  while  he 
was  caressing  them  with  words  of  smooth  hypocrisy,  his  hands  were 
spreading  over  them  the  horrible  insignia  of  their  coming  doom. 

They  were  now  driven  toward  the  town  of  the  Half  King, 
(Pomoacon),  Pipe  walking  by  the  side  of  Crawford,  and  the  others 
driven  in  front.  When  near  the  lodge  of  Pomoacon,  they  entered  a 
trail  leading  to  Captain  Pipe’s  town,  and  the  spirits  of  the  poor  pris- 
oners sank,  for  they  had  learned,  from  Girty’ s conversation  with 
Crawford,  that  the  Pipe  was  their  bitterest  enemy. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


THE  DEED  OF  DEMONS. 


MURDERED  PRISONERS A HORRIBLE  HAG DEATH  OF  CAPTAIN  M’KINLEY 

“MURDER  MOST  FOUL” GIRTY’S  SALUTATION THE  STAKE THE 

TORTURE  BEGINS INDIAN  DEVILS HOURS  OF  TORMENT INCREDIBLE 

HORRORS THE  PART  PLAYED  BY  THE  SQUAWS CRAWFORD’S  REQUEST 

REFUSAL  OF  THE  INFAMOUS  RENEGADE KNIGHT’S  SYMPATHY 

NATURE’S  RESPITE THE  ACME  OF  TORTURE THE  TALE  OF  AN  EYE- 
WITNESS  REMAINS  OF  CRAWFORD KNIGHT'S  DETERMINATION A 

SOLITARY  GUARD MUTUAL  DECEPTION A PAIR  OF  BROTHERS TOR- 
MENTING GNATS FRIENDLY  OFFICES A FEEBLE  BLOW A WHINING 

WARRIOR A MUNCHAUSEN  TALE COMBAT  WITH  A GIANT KNIGHT’S 

DANGERS  AND  SUFFERINGS A GLANCE  AT  THE  RETREATING  COMMAND 

ITS  ESCAPE A SHAMEFUL  DISASTER WHO  WAS  ROSE? THE  RUS- 
SIAN BARON A NOBLE  MAN HIS  DEATH. 


On  the  trail  to  the  Pipe’s  town  they  saw  the  bodies  of  four  of 
their  number,  who  had  been  taken  on  ahead.  They  lay  by  the  road- 
side scalped,  having  evidently  been  forced  to  run  the  gauntlet  for 
the  amusement  of  the  brutal  savages.  They  lay  along  at  intervals 
of  a half  mile.  Soon  after  passing  the  last  of  these  corpses,  they 
came  upon  the  five  remaining  prisoners.  These  were  seated  upon 
the  ground,  surrounded  by  squaws  and  boys,  and  were  constantly 
abused  and  threatened  by  these  fiends.  Crawford  and  Knight  were 
placed  apart  from  the  other  prisoners,  Knight  in  charge  of  a Shaw- 
nee warrior,  who  was  to  take  him  to  his  village,  as  a present  from 
the  Delawares. 

While  they  were  sitting  thus,  a horrible  old  hag  approached  the  five 
prisoners,  and  selecting  ~as  a victim  Captain  McKinley — a brave 
officer,  who  had  served  through  the  war  of  the  revolution — seized 
him  by  the  hair,  and  with  a long,  heavy  knife  cut  off  his  head  and 
kicked  it  so  that  it  fell  almost  in  the  lap  of  Crawford,  who  momen- 
tarily expected  a similar  fate. 

A more  horrible  death,  however,  was  in  store  for  him,  and  the 
savages  fell  upon  the  other  four  prisoners  with  knives,  clubs  and 
tomahawks,  and  then  beat  their  lifeless  bodies  until  their  infernal 
rage  was  partly  satiated.  At  this  juncture  Girty  appeared,  and 
after  a short  conversation  with  Crawford,  came  to  where  Knight 

183 


184 


i i 


CONQUERING  frHE  WILDERNESS, 

was,  and  asked  him  with  a sneer:  “Is  this  the  Doctor?5*  “Yes, 
Mr.  Girty,”  replied  the  wretched  captive — not  knowing  the  utter 
brutality  of  the  renegade — “I  am  glad  to  see  you  !”  and  he  extended 
his  hand  to  Girty,  who  thereupon  fell  to  cursing  him,  and  ordered 
him  not  to  approach  him,  as  he  “could  not  give  his  hand  to  such  a 
d — d rascal.’’ 

His  Shawnee  master  now  began  hauling  him  along  by  a rope, 
and  Girty,  following  on  horseback,  told  him  he  was  to  be  taken  to 
Chillicothe,  an  information  he  deemed  equivalent  to  telling  him  he 
was  to  be  burnt  at  the  stake.  Soon  afterward  they  came  to  a place 
where  there  was  a large  fire  burning,  and  around  it  were  collected 
some  thirty  warriors,  and  more  than  twice  as  many  squaws  and 
boys. 

Here  the  Colonel  was  seized  and  stripped,  and  seated  near  the  fire, 
when  the  Indians  fell  upon  him  and  beat  him  unmercifully  with  their 
fists  and  sticks.  They  then  set  a heavy  stake  in  the  ground,  and 
around  it  laid  piles  of  dry  hickory  poles  a little  larger  than  a man’s 
thumb.  These  were  placed  at  a distance  of  fifteen  or  twenty  feet 
from  the  stake,  and  surrounded  it  with  a circle. 

To  those  whose  ideas  of  the  magnanimity  and  bravery  of  the 
Indian  have  been  derived  from  Cooper’s  descriptions  of  the  very 
Indians  (the  Delawares)  who  were  the  actors  in  the  scene  we  are 
about  to  describe,  we  would  say  skip  the  remainder  of  this  chapter, 
if  you  would  not  have  your  ideal  heroes  toppled  from  their  pedes- 
tals by  the  revealments  of  the  plain,  unvarnished  truth. 

While  these  preparations  were  going  on,  Crawford’s  hands  had 
been  tied  firmly  behind  his  back,  and  to  the  rope  binding  them 
another  was  fastened,  the  other  end  of  which  was  secured  to  the 
bottom  of  the  stake.  This  rope  was  long  enough  to  allow  the  vic- 
tim to  take  two  or  three  turns  either  way  around  the  stake.  Craw- 
ford now  called  to  Girty,  who  was  sitting  on  his  horse  a few  yards 
away,  and  asked  him  if  they  really  intended  to  burn  him.  Girty 
cooly  told  him  they  did. 

This  intelligence  the  Colonel  received  with  firmness,  and  only 
answered  that  he  would  bear  it  with  fortitude.  The  hickory  poles  were 
by  this  time  beginning  to  blaze  fiercely,  and  the  Indians  now  burst, 
with  a savage  whoop,  in  a body  on  Crawford,  and  when  they  again 
left  him,  Knight  could  see  that  they  had  cut  off  his  ears,  and  the 


THE  DEED  OE  DEMONS. 


185 


blood  was  streaming  down  each  side  of  his  face.  The  brave  old 
soldier  did  not  utter  a groan. 

The  scene  of  torture  now  began.  The  adult  warriors,  beginning 
at  his  legs  and  ending  at  his  neck,  lired  charge  after  charge  of  pow- 
der into  his  naked  body,  while  the  boys  took  the  burning  poles  and 
applied  them  to  every  part  of  his  person.  Human  nature  could  not 
stand  this  cruel  torture.  Running  now  from  side  to  side  of  the  circle 
to  avoid  his  hellish  tormentors,  his  every  move  was  anticipated,  and 
he  was  met  at  all  points  with  flashing  powder,  red-hot  irons  and  the 
fiercely  blazing  hickory  poles.  In  a short  time  his  bruised  and  blis- 
tered body  was  blackened  by  over  a hundred  charges  of  powder. 
The  surface  of  the  roasted  flesh  cracked  at  every  motion. 

Still  the  tortures  continued,  though  the  breast  of  a demon  might 
have  given  way  to  pity.  In  his  agony,  Crawford  called  to  Girty: 
“Girty,  Girty!  Shoot  me  through  the  heart.  Quick,  Quick! 
Don’t  refuse  me  ! ” The  only  answer  of  the  renegade  was:  “Don’t 
you  see  I’ve  no  gun,  Colonel?”  and  he  turned  off,  with  a laugh 
and  a brutal  jest  to  the  savages  near  him.  Approaching  Knight,  he 
told  him  that  now  he  might  have  an  idea  of  what  he  could  expect  at 
the  Shawnee  town,  where  he  would  be  taken.  Inwardly  determining 
never  to  reach  there  alive,  Knight  made  no  reply  to  Girty,  but 
turned  again  to  Crawford,  his  gaze  held  in  terrible  fascination  by 
the  horror  of  the  scene. 

The  squaws  were  adding  their  share  to  the  torture,  which  had  now 
continued  more  than  two  hours.  These  hags  had  taken  broad  pieces 
of  bark,  and  scooping  up  the  live,  glistening  coals,  would  dash  them 
over  the  body  of  the  victim,  and  as  they  fell  they  made  a pathway 
of  fire,  that  added  immeasurably  to  their  victim’s  agony.  At  last 
exhaustion  was  beginning  to  lend  its  blessing  of  insensibility  to 
that  tortured  body,  and  he  walked  slowly  backward  and  forward, 
supplicating  his  God,  in  a low  but  earnest  voice,  to  have  mercy 
upon  him,  and  to  pardon  his  sins. 

It  was  horrible,  and  Knight  suffered  with  him  in  mental  sympa- 
thy indescribably  agonizing,  ignoring  the  taunts  and  brutality  of  the 
white  fiend  at  his  side,  who  at  last  left  him  alone  and  returned  to  his 
equally  brutal  fellows,  the  Delawares.  Crawford  had  now  passed 
the  acme  of  his  sufferings,  and  no  longer  shrank  from  the  burning 
rods  and  heated  irons. 


186 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Feebler  and  feebler  he  moves  around,  the  stake,  his  feet  stumble 
upon  his  path  of  fire,  at  last  he  falls  insensible;  Nature  herself — 
kind  mother  of  us  all — has  entered  her  protest.  The  ferocious  grizzly 


bear  will  not  mangle  his  insensible  hunter;  surely  the  Indian — 
who  has  at  least  the  semblance  of  humanity — will  not  be  more  cruel. 
We  shall  see ! 


THE  DEED  OE  DEMONS. 


187 


Scarce  had  he  fallen,  when  a warrior  springs  upon  his  prostrate 
body,  draws  a bloody  circle  around  his  head  and  wrenches  off  his 
scalp.  He  does  not  move.  Can  horror  go  beyond  what  we 
have  seen  ? Can  agony  more  cruel  be  imagined  ? A hag  approaches 
the  fallen  man,  and  with  a piece  of  bark  pours  upon  his  bleeding 
head,  now  bared  to  the  bone,  a mass  of  glowing  coals.  Back  from 
its  sojourn  in  the  aisles  of  death,  the  despairing  soul  of  the  unfortu- 
nate man  is  summoned  to  reanimate  his  tortured  body.  Groaning 
deeply,  Crawford  arose,  and  again  began  that  sorrowful  march  about 
the  stake.  The  horror  and  the  agony  continued  for  hours  before 
death,  more  merciful  than  his  hellish  tormentors,  came  and  released 
him  from  their  power. 

This,  gentle  reader,  is  a feeble  but  true  picture  of  “the  god-like 
savage;  the  man  of  nature’s  wilds,  uncontaminated  by  the  vices  of 
civilization,”  over  whom  the  sentimentalist  gushes  and  deplores  his 
rapid  extinction.  The  picture  is  not  in  the  slightest  overdrawn,  but 
is  the  conscientious  portrayal  of  an  eye  witness,  a brave  and  noble 
gentleman,  a friend  whose  unselfish  devotion  came  near  bringing 
him  to  the  same  awful  doom.  But  let  us  turn  from  these  horrors,  and 
see  how  it  fared  with  poor  Knight. 

He  passed  the  night  in  the  village,  securely  bound,  and  the  next 
evening  was  marched  past  the  scene  of  horror.  He  was  a very  small, 
delicate  man,  and  on  this  account  was  committed  to  the  charge  of  a 
single  Indian.  As  they  passed  the  accursed  spot  of  the  torture,  the 
Indian  gave  a loud  scalp  hallo,  and  Knight  saw,  lying  in  the  midst 
of  the  coals  and  ashes,  a small  pile  of  charred  bones,  the  sole  remains 
of  his  leader. 

As  he  thought  of  that  hideous  sacrifice,  he  again  determined  that 
he  would  never  be  taken  alive  to  the  Shawnee  town.  Death  by  the 
rifle,  the  tomahawk,  the  scalping-knife — any  death,  in  fact — he  felt 
would  be  a boon  compared  to  the  death  by  fire,  but  he  thought  best 
to  pretend  ignorance  of  his  fate  to  the  solitary  guard,  who,  before 
starting  off  with  him , had  again  painted  him  black — ominous  toilet ! 
As  they  marched,  both  were  playing  a game. 

Each  pretended  to  a simplicity  that  neither  possessed,  and  they 
chatted  along  as  amicably  as  brothers.  Knight  asked  the  Indian  if 
they  were  not  to  live  in  the  same  wigwam,  like  brothers,  when  they 
reached  his  town.  The  Indian  appeared  delighted,  and  said  “yes.” 
He  then  asked  Knight  if  he  could  build  a wigwam,  and  was  immensely 


I 


188  CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

pleased  when  Knight  told  him  he  was  a famous  worker  in  wood. 
That  day  they  traveled  twenty-five  miles,  and  camping,  the  red 
brother  tied  the  white  one  securely,  and  watched  like  a hawk  all 
night  to  prevent  his  escaping.  The  Indian  told  him,  on  lying  down, 
that  they  would  reach  his  town  the  middle  of  the  next  day. 

In  the  morning  Knight  was  untied,  and  thinking  that  he  was  near 
enough  to  the  Indian  town,  determined  to  make  his  escape  then  and 
there.  Fate  favored  him.  It  was  daylight  when  they  arose,  but 
the  Indian  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  depart.  He  kindled  the  fire  anew, 
and  cursed  the  countless  thousands  of  gnats,  that  were  feasting  on 
his  filthy  carcass.  Seeing  his  sufferings,  Knight  asked  him  if  he 
should  kindle  a fire  at  his  back  to  drive  off  those  gnats  which  he 
could  not  reach. 

The  proposition  was  gladly  accepted,  and  Knight  took  up  a coal 
of  fire  between  two  sticks  and  went  behind  the  savage,  who  had  aided 
in  the  unutterable  torture  of  Crawford,  but  could  not  bear,  without 
whining,  the  stings  of  those  insignificant  insects.  Dropping  the  coals 
softly  on  the  ground,  Knight  gathered  all  his  feeble  strength,  and 
struck  the  savage  a blow  on  the  head  with  the  heaviest  stick.  The 
Indian  fell  with  his  hands  in  the  fire,  but  got  up,  and  ran  off  how- 
ling with  pain. 

Seizing  the  Indian’s  rifle,  Knight  aimed  at  the  savage,  but  broke 
the  lock  of  the  gun,  and  the  fellow  ran  off,  dodging  and  leaping  and 
whining  most  terribly.  He  made  his  way  to  the  town,  and  told  a 
gruesome  tale  of  his  combat  with  the  gigantic  Knight,  (his  height 
was  five  feet  seven  inches  !)  how  he  had  stabbed  him,  and  how  he 
knew  that  he  must  soon  perish  of  his  wounds.  Knight  had  hoped  to 
kill  his  enemy,  so  that  he  might  escape  unpursued,  but  he  had  failed, 
and  no  time  must  be  lost,  if  he  would  evade  his  foes.  Going  to  the 
camp,  he  took  the  Indian’s  blanket,  ammunition  and  moccasins,  and 
began  a rapid  flight  toward  the  northeast. 

An  hour  before  sunset  he  came  to  a prairie,  sixteen  miles  wide, 
and  not  daring  to  venture  across  it  by  daylight,  he  secreted  himself 
in  the  woods  until  dark,  and  guiding  himself  by  the  pole  star,  he 
made  his  way  across.  All  the  next  day  he  walked  through  the  dense 
woods  he  had  now  entered,  and  in  the  afternoon  was  faint  for 
want  of  food.  His  jaw  had  been  so  injured  by  a tomahawk  blow, 
that  he  could  not  chew  the  wild  gooseberries,  that  grew  in  abun- 
dance, but  he  found  a weed,  the  juice  of  which  was  grateful  and 


THE  DEED  OF  DEMONS. 


189 


strengthening  to  him.  Resting  for  a few  hours,  he  continually 
sucked  the  juice  of  these  weeds,  and  was  soon  strong  enough  to  con- 
tinue his  journey.  Finding  that  he  could  not  repair  the  lock  of  his 
rifle,  so  as  to  kill  game,  he  threw  it  away.  Day  after  day  passed 
thus,  his  jaw  grew  stronger,  and  upon  gooseberries,  two  young 
blackbirds,  and  a land  terrapin  (all  eaten  raw),  he  managed  to  sus- 
tain life  for  three  weeks.  He  swam  the  Muskingum,  avoided  all 
paths,  and  finally  reached  the  Ohio  River  on  the  twenty-first  day. 
On  the  morning  of  the  twenty-second  day,  from  the  time  of  making 
his  escape,  Dr.  Knight  reached  the  fort  in  safety. 

Flying  disgracefully  from  this  field  of  horror,  the  command  was 
held  together,  as  well  as  possible,  by  Colonel  Williamson  and  Major 
John  Rose.  The  latter,  particularly,  used  every  exertion  to  prevent 
a total  disbandment,  and  it  was  chiefly  owing  to  his  heroic  efforts 
that  the  loss  was  so  light;  only  about  seventy  men  in  killed, 
wounded,  and  missing. 

Thus  terminated  a defeat  more  disastrous  than  the  battle  of  the 
Blue  Licks,  redeemed  by  none  of  the  desperate  valor  or  heroic 
devotion,  of  the  latter.  Had  half  the  courage  of  the  Kentuckians 
at  the  Licks  been  shown  by  the  troops  here,  an  overwhelming  vic- 
tory would  have  been  the  result.  It  was  a shameful  affair,  most 
of  whose  victims  perished  either  by  torture  or  the  tomahawk. 

Quite  a mystery  attached  to  Rose,  the  gallant  young  Major, 
whose  manly  bearing  and  noble  words  of  encouragement  prevented 
a general  massacre.  “Who  is  he?”  had  long  been  the  question 
amongst  officers  and  privates  in  the  army,  where  his  imperfect  Eng- 
lish caused  all  to  know  that  his  name  of  Rose  was  an  assumed  one. 
All  felt  that  nothing  sordid  or  mean  had  caused  his  exile  from  his 
native  country,  and  at  last  the  solution  of  the  enigma  was  forth- 
coming. Leaving  America  for  Russia,  his  native  land,  he  wrote  to 
Gen.  Irvine,  wTho  had  ever  proved  his  steadfast  friend,  that  he  had 
unfortunately  killed  a man  in  a duel  within  the  purlieus  of  his 
Emperor’s  palace,  and  had  fled  for  his  life.  His  rank  was  that  of 
Baron,  and  his  true  name  was  Gustave  Heinrich  de  Rosenthal. 

In  every  station,  while  serving  in  America,  he  had  proved  himself 
a gallant  gentleman,  a soldier  without  fear  and  without  reproach. 
In  Crawford’s  awful  retreat,  he  was  “the  guardian  angel  of  the 
American  forces.”  Wherever  the  surging  masses  of  the  pursuing 
Indians  swarmed  thickest,  there  was  seen  the  soldierly  figure  of  the 


100 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


noble  Rose,  and  when  his  voice  rang  out,  it  was  like  the  clarion  blast 
of  martial  music. 

“Once  more  my  men  !”  he  cried,  “stand  fast ! Another  volley, 
boys  ! Aim  low,  close  up,  close  up  !”  and  cheering  them  by  voice 
and  example,  he  infused  into  the  panic-stricken  mob  his  own  gallant 


spirit,  and  transformed  them  into  soldiers.  All  honor  to  the  noble 
Russian,  whose  name  should  be  added  to  the  proud  list  of  foreign- 
ers who  served  in  our  war  of  the  Revolution  with  distinguished 
bravery.  This  gallant  man  died  in  his  native  country,  in  1830,  full 
of  years,  and  crowned  with  honors. 


MISERABLE  OLD  AGE  OF  GIRTY,  THE  RENEGADE. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


COLONEL  BENJAMIN  LOGAN. 


HIS  BIRTH APPEARANCE MENTAL  QUALITIES A GENEROUS  ACTION 

REMOVES  TO  TENNESSEE MARRIES GOES  TO  KENTUCKY- FEARLESS- 
NESS  DEFENDS  HIS  FORT A GALLANT  ACTION THE  CLOSE-FITTING 

SKIN A TREMBLING  GIANT THE  RESCUE A MARVELOUS  ESCAPE 

A PERILOUS  JOURNEY SAFE  RETURN A STUBBORN  DEFENSE ARRIVAL 

OF  COLONEL  BOWMAN FLIGHT  OF  SAVAGES BOWMAN’S  EXPEDITION 

“CARRYING  THE  WAR  INTO  AFRICA” HEROIC  OFFICERS THE 

INDIAN  CAPITOL PLAN  OF  BATTLE DREARY  NIGHT  WATCH THE 

VILLAGE  AROUSED THE  ATTACK LOGAN’S  BRAVERY COWARDICE  OF 

BOWMAN M’CLUNG’S  ACCOUNT UNDAUNTED  HEROES A FIERCE 

CHARGE SURROUNDED ALMOST  A PANIC LOGAN’S  POPULARITY 

DEATH  OF  MOLUNTHA OUR  OLD  FRIEND,  M’GARRY LOGAN’S  WARNING 

INDIANS  TAKE  NAME  OF  LOGAN CAPTAIN  JOHNNY TRAGIC  DEATH 

A FURIOUS  FIGHT LOGAN’S  SERVICES A NOBLE  MAN. 


Among  the  most  noble  of  Kentucky’s  pioneers  was  Benjamin 
Logan,  who  was  born  in  Augusta  County,  Virginia,  and  of  whom 
McClung  says:  “His  person  was  striking  and  manly;  his  hair 
and  complexion  very  dark ; his  eye  keen  and  penetrating ; his  coun- 
tenance grave,  thoughtful,  and  expressive  of  a firmness,  probity  and 
intelligence,  which  were  eminently  displayed  throughout  his  life.” 
To  this  he  might  have  added  that  his  mental  and  moral  qualities 
were  no  less  striking  than  his  personal  appearance;  indeed,  so  fear- 
less, just  and  noble  was  he,  that  even  his  savage  enemies  paid  him 
the  reverence  due  to  their  possession,  and  testified  to  their  admira- 
tion of  the  man  by  two  of  their  number  assuming  his  name. 

Benjamin  Logan  was  the  eldest  son  in  a large  family.  When  his 
father  died  intestate,  the  old  English  law  of  promogeniture,  prevail- 
ing in  Virginia  at  that  time,  gave  to  him  all  the  family  inheritance, 
but  the  youth  nobly  divided  the  estate  amongst  his  mother,  his 
brothers  and  sisters,  and  at  the  age  of  twenty-one  removed  to  the 
Holston  River,  and  there  began  life  for  himself.  Here  he  married 
and  commenced  farming,  and  in  1774  was  with  Dunmore’s  expedi- 
tion, though  in  what  capacity  is  unknown,  and  McClung  thinks  it 
was  most  likely  as  a private. 

In  1775  he  removed  to  Kentucky,  and  here,  as  with  George  Rogers 
Clarke,  his  worth  and  merit  were  immediately  recognized,  and  he  at 

m 


192 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


once  became  a leader,  In  1776  he  removed  his  family  from  the 
Holston  to  the  settlement  he  had  begun  near  Harrodsburg,  and 
which  was  known  as  Logan’s  Fort.  The  unusual  number  of  the 
the  Indians,  who  were  that  year  raiding  these  frontier  settlements, 
soon  induced  him  to  place  his  family  in  Harrodsburg,  but  he  him- 
self remained  at  his  post,  and  cultivated  a crop  of  corn. 


COLONEL  BENJAMIN  LOGAN. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1777  he  deemed  it  safe  to  take  his  family 
back  to  his  fort ; for  although  he  did  not  expect  absolute  immunity 
from  attack,  yet  was  he  determined,  at  all  hazards,  to  maintain  his 
position.  The  test  came  sooner  than  he  had  expected.  On  May 
20th,  while  the  women  were  milking  the  cows  near  the  gate  of  the 
fort,  and  a few  men  were  standing  by  to  assist  them,  a party  of 
Indians  appeared  at  the  edge  of  a thicket  and  fired  upon  them  One 


COLONEL  BENJAMIN  LOGAN. 


193 


of  the  whites  fell  dead  and  two  were  wounded,  one  of  them  mortally. 
All,  except  the  last  mentioned — a man  named  Harrison — darted 
into  the  gate  and  closed  it. 

Outside,  Harrison  was  seen  dragging  himself  along,  being  unable 
to  walk,  and  had  reached  the  shelter  of  some  bushes,  but  these  were 
too  thin  to  protect  him  from  the  bullets  of  the  savages.  His  family, 
'within  the  fort,  were  in  an  agony  of  distress  at  his  terrible  condition, 
which  seemed  to  be  beyond  the  power  of  relief.  To  save  him  wTas 
to  risk  the  lives  of  several  of  the  garrison,  and  already  they  were 
far  too  few  to  take  such  fearful  chances,  especially  when  it  was 
almost  certain  that  others  would  be  sacrificed  in  attempting  to  rescue 
him  in  the  face  of  the  loaded  rifles  of  the  Indians,  within  a few 
yards  of  them.  The  garrison  originally  numbered  only  fifteen 
men,  and  already  three  of  these  were  disabled  from  participating  in 
its  defense.  “Should  their  numbers  be  still  further  reduced,  in  try- 
ing to  succor  a man,  who,  even  if  brought  within  the  fort,  could  be 
of  no  use  in  its  defense  ? 9 ’ 

So  queried  the  timid  and  the  selfish;  but  there  were,  thank  God, 
nobler  hearts  within  the  rudely  palisaded  walls,  and  Logan  deter- 
mined on  a sally  to  rescue  Harrison  if  possible.  Calling  for  some 
to  aid  him,  so  evident  was  the  danger,  and  so  hopeless  the  chance  of 
escape,  that  at  first  every  man  refused.  Announcing  his  determa- 
tion  to  go,  if  he  had  to  go  alone,  Logan  began  by  name  to  call  for  vol- 
unteers. Some  of  the  replies  were  comical , and  called  up  a smile  upon 
the  firm  lips  of  the  brave  Logan.  One  man  of  gigantic  build,  with 
the  thews  and  sinews  of  a Hercules,  said  that  he  would  willingly  go, 
but  that  he  was  a “weakly  man,”  and  his  trembling  knees  and  pal- 
lid cheeks  seemed  to  bear  out  his  assertion.  Passing  by  this  faint- 
hearted giant,  the  next  one,  a backwoods  Esop,  undoubtedly  brave, 
but,  alas,  undoubtedly  selfish,  replied  with  a homely  adage — that 
while  he  was  sorry  for  Harrison,  yet  “the  skin  was  closer  than  the 
shirt.” 

Turning  alike  from  trembling  coward  and  selfish  wit,  Logan  called 
upon  John  Martin,  who  “screwed  his  courage  to  the  sticking  point,” 
with  the  reflection,  that  he  could  die  but  once,  and  that  he  was 
about  as  ready  now  as  he  ever  would  be,  and  the  two  started  on 
their  perilous  mission.  Hardly  had  they  got  five  yards  from  the 
gate,  when  Harrison,  who  had  been  observing  them,  made  an  effort 


194 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


to  rise,  and  Martin,  either  supposing  that  he  was  able  to  help  him- 
self or  from  a reconsideration  of  his  own  fitness  to  die,  turned  and 
fled  into  the  fort. 

Noticing  his  desertion,  Logan  paused  for  but  a moment,  and  then, 
under  a perfect  shower  of  bullets,  ran  to  Harrison,  clasped  him  in 
his  arms,  and  making  his  way  back  to  the  fort,  entered  it  unscarred, 
although  the  balls  were  pouring  around  him  from  every  tree,  bush, 
or  tuft  of  grass  big  enough  to  shelter  an  Indian.  The  deed  was 
noble,  the  escape  from  death  marvellous.  His  hat  and  clothes,  and 
the  gate  and  picketing  toward  which  he  ran,  were  riddled  with  bul- 
lets. Once  inside  the  fort,  the  siege  began,  and  was  met  most  hero- 
ically. Soon,  however,  Logan  saw  that  another  danger,  besides  the 
weakness  of  their  numbers,  threatened.  They  were  almost  out  of 
ammunition ! 

How  was  this  to  be  obtained?  Who  would  attempt  to  pass 
through  the  besieging  masses  of  infuriated  savages?  The  duty 
required  the  greatest  judgment,  as  well  as  the  most  unbounded  cour- 
age, and  Logan  took  it  upon  himself.  To  succeed,  he  must  make  his 
way  safely  through  the  enemy  lying  around  the  fort,  and  then,  on 
foot,  make  his  journey,  amidst  a thousand  dangers,  to  the  Holston, 
through  a country  swarming  with  outlying  savages,  and  must  return 
through  the  same  dangers  in  time  to  rescue  the  garrison. 

The  distance  between  the  two  points  was  fully  two  hundred  miles, 
and  the  way  as  rough  as  tangled  thickets,  almost  unsurmountable 
peaks,  deep  rivers  and  heavy  swamps  could  make  it.  There  were  a 
thousand  chances  of  failure  to  one  of  success,  and  it  is  doubtful  if 
any  one,  save  a man  trained  in  the  hardy  school  of  the  border,  would 
have  attempted  the  perilous  feat,  with  but  that  single  chance  in 
his  favor. 

The  undertaking  dwarfed  the  fabled  ones  of  Hercules,  but  it  was 
performed.  Encouraging  the  men  to  hold  out  at  all  hazards,  for  he 
was  certain  to  return  in  time,  he  selected  the  first  dark  night, 
and  crawled  past  the  besiegers  without  discovery.  Believing  it 
utterly  impossible  to  accomplish  his  purpose,  if  he  took  the  beaten 
trail  through  Cumberland  Gap,  he  chose  by-paths  through  swamps 
and  cane-brakes,  over  crags  and  along  hideous  chasms,  where  never 
the  foot  of  mortal  man  had  yet  trod.  It  was  a path  full  of  dangers, 
but  yet  he  arrived  in  safety,  secured  his  needed  supplies  of  powder 


COLONEL  BENJAMIN  LOGAN. 


195 

and  lead,  and  retracing  his  way  by,  the  route  over  which  he  had  just 
come,  he  returned  to  the  fort,  and  just  in  time. 

He  had  been  gone  less  than  ten  days.  This  wonderful  march  of 
over  four  hundred  miles,  requiring  no  less  caution  than  bravery,  no 
less  skill  than  strength,  had  been  performed  with  the  courage  of  a 
lion  and  the  agility  of  an  athlete.  He  found  the  garrison  worn  out 
by  days  and  nights  of  sleepless  activity,  in  which  the  women  had 
displayed  no  less  heroism  than  the  men.  Their  ammunition  was 
almost  entirely  exhausted,  and  matters,  indeed  bore  a gloomy  aspect, 
when  their  leader  again  appeared,  and  with  his  lofty  courage  once 
more  inspired  them  to  stand  to  their  posts  and  beat  off  the  enemy, 
or  die  like  heroes.  A few  days  after,  Col.  Bowman  arrived  from 
Virginia,  with  a large  body  of  men,  and  the  Indians  promptly  raised 
the  siege  and  fled. 

For  the  remainder  of  this  year,  and  during  the  whole  of  the 
next,  the  Indians  swarmed  over  the  borders  of  Kentucky,  and  their 
marauding  parties  committed  some  frightful  outrages.  In  1779,  Col. 
Bowman  organized  an  expedition  against  the  Indian  town  of  Chil- 
licothe;  thus,  by  “carrying  the  war  into  Africa,”  hoping  to  teach 
the  savages  the  horrors  of  invasion.  Logan  was  the  second  in  com- 
mand, and  attached  to  the  expedition  were  the  noble  James  Harrod, 
who  perished  not  long  after  in  one  of  his  solitary  hunts,  and  brave 
John  Bulger,  who  was  amongst  the  slain  at  the  terrible  battle  of  the 
Blue  Licks.  The,  expedition,  numbering  one  hundred  and  sixty 
men,  left  Harrodsburg  in  July,  and  marched  with  such  secresy  that 
they  reached  Chillicothe  without  having  been  seen  by  the  enemy. 

Halting  within  a mile  of  the  town,  which  might  be  regarded  as 
the  Indians’  capitol,  the  men  were  divided  into  two  bodies,  to  march 
upon  the  enemy,  who  were  entirely  unprepared.  The  plan  was,  that 
Logan,  with  his  half  of  the  men,  should  march  to  the  left,  and 
encircle  one  half  of  the  village  with  a continuous  line;  Bowman, 
with  his  men,  was  to  proceed  in  the  same  manner  to  the  right,  and  on 
the  heads  of  the  columns  meeting,  a simultaneous  attack  was  to 
begin.  Logan,  with  military  celerity  and  caution,  performed  his 
part  of  the  maneuver  successfully,  but  waited  all  through  the  long 
watches  of  the  night  for  the  commander  and  his  forces  to  join  him. 

Hour  after  hour  passed  away,  and  the  darkness  had  given  place  to 
dawn,  still  Bowman  did  not  appear.  Logan,  who  possessed  all  the 
elements  of  a soldier,  waited  with  patience,  secreting  his  men,  and 


196 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


still  thinking  that  the  plan  would  be  carried  out,  until  at  last,  an 
Indian  dog  aroused  his  master,  and  the  latter  discovered  the  ambush. 
Just  at  this  time  a gun  was  fired  from  Bowman’s  side  of  the  village, 
and  seeing  that  further  concealment  was  useless,  Logan  rushed  upon 
the  village,  certain  that  he  would  be  supported  by  Bowman.  As  he 
charged  into  the  town,  Logan  saw  the  Indians  of  both  sexes,  and  all 
ages,  rushing  to  the  large  cabin  in  the  center  of  the  village,  and 
which  was  in  character  half  council  chamber  and  half  citadel. 

Advancing  rapidly  from  cabin  to  cabin,  Logan  soon  had  his  men 
sheltered  in  close  rifle  shot  of  the  central  cabin,  .and  listened  impa- 
tiently for  Bowman’s  men  to  begin  firing.  The  Indians  now  began 
to  recover  from  their  surprise,  and  endeavored  to  turn  the  flanks  of 
the  Kentuckians,  whom  they  perceived  to  be  greatly  inferior  in 
numbers.  The  position  was  critical,  but  the  lion-hearted  Logan  did 
not  despair.  Tearing  the  heavy  doors  from  the  Indian  cabins,  he 
formed  a movable  breast-work,  and  had  begun  an  advance  on  the 
Indian  citadel,  when  at  last  an  order  came  from  the  coward,  Bow- 
man. It  was:  “Ketreat !”.  Let  us  here  quote  from  McClung: 

“Astonished  at  such  an  order,  at  a time  when  honor  and  safety 
required  an  offensive  movement  on  their  part,  Logan  hastily  asked 
if  Bowman  had  been  overpowered  by  the  enemy?  No!  Had  he 
ever  beheld  an  enemy  ? No  ! What  then  was  the  cause  of  this 
extraordinary  abandonment  of  a design  so  prosperously  begun  ? He 
did  not  know — the  Colonel  had  ordered  a retreat!”  Logan,  how- 
ever reluctantly,  was  compelled  to  obey. 

“A  retreat  is  always  a dispiriting  movement,  and  with  militia  is 
almost  always  certain  to  terminate  in  a complete  rout.  As  soon  as 
the  men  were  informed  of  the  order,  a most  irregular  and  tumultous 
scene  commenced.  Not  being  buoyed  up  by  the  mutual  confidence, 
which  is  the  offspring  of  discipline,  and  which  sustains  regular 
soldiers  under  all  circumstances,  they  no  longer  acted  in  concert. 
Each  man  selected  the  time,  manner  and  route  of  his  retreat  for 
himself.  Here  a solitary  Kentuckian  would  start  up  from  behind  a 
stump,  and  scud  away  through  the  grass,  dodging  and  turning  to 
avoid  the  balls,  which  whistled  around  him.  There  a dozen  men 
would  run  from  a cabin  and  scatter  in  every  direction,  each  anxious 
to  save  himself,  and  none  having  leisure  to  attend  to  their 
neighbors. 


COLONEL  BENJAMIN  LOGAN. 


19? 


“The  Indians,  astonished  at  seeing  men  rout  themselves  in  this 
manner,  sallied  out  of  their  redoubts  and  pursued  the  stragglers,  as 
sportsmen  would  cut  up  a scattered  flock  of  wild  geese.  They  soon 
united  themselves  to  Bowman’s  party,  which,  from  some  unaccount- 
able panic  of  their  commander,  or  fault  in  themselves,  had  stood 
stock  still  near  the  spot  where  Logan  had  left  them  the  night  before. 
All  was  confusion.  Some  cursed  their  Colonel;  some  reproached 
other  officers.  One  shouted  one  thing:  one  bellowed  another;  but 
all  seemed  to  agree  that  they  ought  to  make  the  best  of  their  way 
home,  without  the  loss  of  a moment’s  time.  By  great  exertions  on 
the  part  of  Logan,  well  seconded  by  Harrod,  Bulger,  and  the  present 
Major  Bedinger,  of  the  Blue  Licks,  some  degree  of  order  was 
lestored,  and  a tolerably  respectable  retreat  commenced. 

“The  Indians,  however,  soon  surrounded  them  on  all  sides,  and 
kept  up  a hot  fire,  which  began  to  grow  fatal.  Colonel  Bowman 
appeared  totally  demented,  and  sat  upon  his  horse  like  a pillar  of 
stone,  neither  giving  an  order,  nor  taking  any  measures  to  repel  the 
enemy.  The  sound  of  the  rifle  shots,  however,  had  completely 
restored  the  men  to  their  senses,  and  they  readily  formed  in  a large 
hollow  square,  took  trees,  and  returned  the  fire  with  equal  vivacity. 
The  enemy  was  quickly  repelled,  and  the  troops  recommenced  their 
march.” 

Half  a mile  further  on  the  pursuing  Indians  resumed  the  attack, 
and  again  and  again  were  they  beaten  off  by  the  hardy  backwoods- 
men. Their  tenacity  in  returning  to  the  attack  showed  that  they 
were  endeavoring  to  hold  the  whites,  until  reinforcements  could  come 
up  and  annihilate  them,  or  force  them  to  lay  down  their  arms. 
Fearful  that  they  could  not  withstand  the  attack  of  fresh  enemies, 
the  panic  of  their  Colonel  began  to  spread  to  the  ranks.  The  crisis 
was  a terrible  one,  and  the  retreat  could  only  be  prevented  from 
becoming  an  utter  rout  by  some  decisive  action,  and  Logan,  Harrod, 
Bedinger,  and  others  of  the  boldest  and  best  mounted  men,  dashed 
into  the  brushes,  and  scouring  the  woods  in  every  direction,  roused 
the  enemy  from  their  coverts,  and  cut  them  down  by  the  dozen. 
Not  knowing  what  next  to  expect  from  men  capable  of  such  dash 
and  bravery,  the  Indians’  pursuit  ceased,  and  the  retreat  continued 
in  safety.  This  masterly  retreat  prevented  a wholesale  massacre, 
and  only  nine  of  the  Kentuckians  were  killed,  and  a few  wounded. 
Bowman’s  reputation  as  a brave  man  was  gone  forever.  The  cause 


198 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


of  his  conduct  has  never  been  satisfactorily  explained,  and  will  now 
forever  remain  a mystery. 

Logan’s  gallant  conduct  in  this  expedition  greatly  extended  and 
increased  his  reputation,  although  the  result  was  a failure,  and  in 
the  next  grand  gathering  of  the  Kentuckians  he  was  chosen  unani- 
mously as  their  leader.  We  have  already  seen  how  circumstances, 
entirely  beyond  his  control,  prevented  his  participation  in  the  battle 
of  the  Blue  Licks.  Had  the  Kentuckians  but  waited  twenty-four 
hours  for  him  to  come  up,  their  victory  would  have  been  as  complete 
and  decisive  as  this  defeat  was  bloody  and  disastrous. 

Kemaining  quiet  until  the  summer  of  1788,  he  led  an  expedition 
against  the  tribes  of  the  Northwest.  The  Indians  on  this  occasion 
pursued  their  usual  tactics,  and  flying  before  him,  abandoned  their 
villages  to  the  torch,  and  their  growing  crops  to  destruction.  An 
incident  occurred  in  their  approach  to  one  of  the  large  Shawnen 
towns,  in  which  our  old  friend,  Major  McGarry,  figured.  An  old 
chief,  named  Moluntha,  who  was  in  the  battle  of  the  Blue  Licks, 
came  out  to  meet  the  troops,  having  from  some  cause  been  unable 
to  escape  from  the  towns  as  readily  as  the  other  warriors.  Upon 
his  head  was  an  old  cocked  hat,  and  around  his  shoulders  a shawl 
stolen  from  some  white  woman. 

Strutting  toward  the  white  men — calculating  on  their  well-known 
forbearance,  and  evidently  confident  of  their  intense  admiration — he 
was  received  with  mingled  good  nature  and  contempt,  until  at  last 
an  adverse  fate  brought  him  face  to  face  with  McGarry.  When  he 
offered  his  hand,  the  latter  refused  it,  and  with  a fierce  scowl  asked 
him  if  he  “recollected  the  Blue  Licks.  ” Moluntha,  who  did  not 
understand  English,  smiled,  and  repeated  the  words  “Blue  Licks  !” 
At  this  McGarry  drew  his  tomahawk,  and  vengefully  cleft  the 
Indian’s  skull  with  a strong  sweeping  blow,  as  if  in  that  stroke  his 
hatred  of  the  whole  race  was  centered. 

Some  of  his  comrades  denounced,  and  others  applauded  the  action, 
while  McGarry  himself  raved  like  a madman,  and  swore,  that  to  his 
vengeance  an  Indian  was  a legitimate  sacrifice,  no  matter  where  he 
met  him;  he  said  that,  in  peace  or  at  war,  at  market  or  in  church, 
he  would  kill  every  Indian  he  met,  and  that  his  tomahawk  was 
equally  as  ready  for  any  white  man  who  would  blame  him  for  his 
actions  or  his  sentiments. 

In  this  campaign,  Logan  burned  eight  towns,  destroyed  every 
Indian  corn-field,  killed  twenty  warriors,  and  took  seventy-five  or 


COLONEL  BENJAMIN  LOGAN. 


199 


eighty  prisoners.  Logan  had  warned  McGarry — knowing  his  intense 
hatred  to  the  Indians,  and  his  ungovernable  temper — not  to  molest 
any  of  the  prisoners,  but  McGarry  only  replied:  “I  will  see  to 
that,”  and  soon  after  Moluntha  fell.  All  of  the  men,  even  to  their 
leaders,  being  volunteers,  nothing  could  be  done  to  McGarry,  and 
in  fact  those  who  had  lost  relatives  by  the  Indian  atrocities  felt  no 
disposition  to  see  him  harmed. 

The  son  of  Moluntha — who  was  the  head  chief  of  the  Shawnees — 
was  carried  off  a prisoner  by  the  whites,  and  on  account  of  his 
brightness  and  promise  was  kept  in  the  family  of  Colonel  Logan, 
whose  name  he  adopted.  When  grown,  he  was  a majestic  looking 
man,  being  six  feet  high,  and  weighing  nearly  two  hundred  pounds. 
He  met  with  a melancholy  death  in  1812.  During  one  of  Harrison’s 
campaigns  against  the  Maumee  Indians,  Logan  and  two  other  friendly 
Indians  were  sent  out  with  a party  on  a scout,  and  were  driven  in 
by  a superior  force  of  hostile  Indians.  For  some  reason  a general 
of  the  whites  accused  the  Indian  of  treachery,  and  stung  to  the 
quick  the  sensitive  and  honorable  nature  of  Logan,  who  determined 
to  prove  the  falsity  of  his  slanderer.  Starting  off  the  next  morning 
with  his  companions,  they  were  suddenly  surprised  by  some  Potta- 
wattamies,  led  by  their  famous  chief,  Winnemac.  Logan  had  the 
cool  courage  of  his  great  namesake,  and  he  told  the  hostiles  that  they 
had  become  disgusted  with  the  Americans,  and  were  deserting  to  the 
British.  Winnemac  did  not  all  at  once  drop  his  suspicions,  but 
after  the  first  day  concluded  to  return  to  the  prisoners  their  arms, 
and  they  all  started  for  the  British  camp. 

On  the  way,  Logan  communicated  to  his  companions,  Bright  Horn 
and  Captain  Johnny,  the  fact  that  he  would  attack  their  captors  that 
night.  Accordingly,  after  supper, when  some  of  the  party  were  absent, 
the  three  men  fired  on  those  left,  killing  two  and  wounding  one, 
whom  they  also  killed  by  a second  shot.  They  had  reloaded  when 
the  other  four  came  running  back  to  the  camp,  and  all  of  them  took 
to  trees.  Three  of  the  hostiles  kept  the  Logan  party  behind  their 
trees,  while  the  fourth  crept  around  and  succeeded  in  wounding 
Logan.  Two  of  the  hostiles  were  now  wounded,  and  the  others 
retreated.  Captain  Johnny  placed  Logan  and  Bright  Horn,  who 
had  also  been  wounded  soon  after  Logan,  on  horses,  and  they  made 
their  way  back  to  the  whites  that  night.  Captain  Johnny  himself 
arived  the  next  morning,  bringing  with  him  the  scalp  of  Winnemac. 


200 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


The  two  wounded  hostiles  died,  thus  making  a total  of  five  killed 
out  of  the  seven. 

Logan  lingered  for  a few  days  in  great  agony,  and  died.  Before 
his  death  he  told  a friend  that,  having  removed  all  suspicion  from 
his  honor,  he  was  willing  to  die.  He  also  requested  that  his  sons 
should  be  educated  by  the  Kentuckians,  but  neither  their  mother 
nor  their  tribe  would  consent  to  this.  They  were  finally  taken  to 
Piqua,  Ohio,  but  their  mother,  with  characteristic  Indian  perversity, 
frustrated  every  attempt  to  benefit  them,  removing  them  from  their 
school  for  weeks  at  a time,  forcing  them  to  drink  whisky,  etc.  She 
finally  persuaded  them  to  leave  the  whites  and  go  with  her  to  the 
West,  where  they  became  worthless  vagabonds,  with  all  the  vices  of 
the  two  races  and  none  of  the  virtues  of  either. 

Col.  Logan  rounded  out  his  life  of  noble  activity,  and  died  univer- 
sally lamented.  In  ability  he  was  probably  second  only  to  George 
Powers  Clarke  as  a leader  of  men,  although  it  is  doubtful  if  he 
possessed  any  of  the  latter’s  military  ambition.  In  this  he  resem- 
bled Boone,  who,  whatever  may  be  said  of  him  by  some  historians, 
certainly  possessed,  in  a large  degree,  the  genius  for  combination 
and  the  inspiring  magnetism  of  a successful  military  leader. 

Logan’s  bravery  had  no  tinge  of  rashness  in  it,  though  of  him  it 
could  be  truly  said — while  Ue  would  have  been  the  last  man  to 
make  the  boast : — 

“I  dare  do  all  that  may  become  a man, — 

He  that  dares  more,  is  none!  ” 

He  filled  every  station,  in  which  he  had  been  placed,  with  honor, 
courage  and  ability,  and  like  Cincinnatus,  when  dove-like  peace 
once  again  possessed  the  country,  he  gracefully  retired  to  a private 
station,  with  no  regret  that  “grim-visaged  war  had  smoothed  his 
wrinkled  front,”  and  had  relegated  all  to  gentler  and  less  stirring 
occupations. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


THE  BRADYS. 


INDIAN  FIGHTERS SAMUEL  BRADY A WARRIOR  AT  SEVENTEEN FATE 

OF  HIS  FATHER  AND  BROTHER SCOUT  TO  SANDUSKY QUICK  PREPA- 
RATIONS  CAUTIOUS  MARCHING DESERTED  BY  HIS  CHICKASAW  GUIDES 

SURMISES SOLDIERS  MUTINY A NIGHT  ADVENTURE A BOLD 

MOVE HIS  OBJECT  ACCOMPLISHED OUT  OF  AMMUNITION BRADY 

CHOSEN  HUNTER THE  LAST  LOAD THE  RABBIT  AND  THE  DEER 

STARTLED THE  INDIAN  CAPTIVES BRADY’S  PLANS THE  DEED  OF  A 

HERO THE  DEAD  CHIEF FRIGHTENED  SAVAGES A BEWILDERED 

WOMAN DESERTED  BY  HIS  MEN SAFE  RETURN HIS  NEXT  SCOUT 

PHOUTS  AND  THE  GOOD  INDIAN THE  IRATE  CAPTAIN THE  EXPLA- 
NATION. 


Like  the  Wetzels,  the  Brady  family  were  all  Indian  fighters. 
Men  of  unusual  activity,  sagacity  and  courage,  they  were  amongst 
the  foremost  scouts  of  their  day,  and  could  always  be  depended 
upon  to  take  a hand  in  any  of  the  Indian  hunts,  organized  in  retalia- 
tion for  redskin  deviltries. 

The  warlike  exploits  of  Samuel  Brady  began  in  1775,  at  which 
time  he  was  seventeen  years  of  age,  and  from  thence  onward  the 
youth  performed  the  duties  of  a man,  in  camp  and  on  the  march. 
Fighting  in  many  battles  of  the  Revolutionary  War,  he  rose  to  the 
rank  of  captain  before  he  had  attained  his  twenty-first  year,  and 
soon  afterward  the  regiment  to  which  he  belonged  was  detached  for 
service  in  the  West,  against  the  marauding  Indians  and  British. 

At  this  time  he  had  lost  his  father,  and  a younger  brother,  James, 
both  having  been  murdered  by  the  Indians.  Like  Lewis  Wetzel, 
this  event  made  him  an  Indian  slayer,  for  he  swore  to  live  only  for 
revenge.  The  opportunity  soon  came,  and,  as  may  well  be  believed, 
was  not  neglected.  In  1780,  Washington  conceived  the  idea  of 
obliterating  Sandusky — a nest  of  British  and  hostile  Indians — from 
the  earth,  and  in  order  to  go  about  it  intelligently,  sought  accurate 
information  in  regard  to  the  strength  of  the  enemy,  the  situation  of 
the  post,  and  other  matters. 

To  obtain  this,  he  sent  orders  to  Colonel  Broadhead,  commander 
of  the  regiment  to  which  Captain  Brady  belonged,  to  send  out  a 

201 


202 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


suitable  person  to  obtain  the  needed  information.  Without  the 
slightest  hesitation,  Broadhead  determined  to  entrust  the  mission  to 
Brady,  and  sending  for  him,  asked  him  how  many  men  he  would 
need.  Being  told,  he  gave  the  captain  a carte  blanche  to  select  them 
from  any  or  all  of  the  companies,  and  placing  in  his  hands  a care- 
fully prepared  map  of  the  intervening  country,  told  him  to  set  out 
without  delay. 


CAPTAIN  SAMOIL  BRADY. 


Brady’s  preparations  occupied  but  a short  time,  and  he  soon 
started  on  his  dangerous  errand,  armed  and  dressed  like  a warrior 
for  the  war-path,  and  accompanied  by  his  faithful  men,  similarly 
attired.  It  was  a desperate  expedition,  and  Brady  fully  knew  its 
dangers,  but  he  determined  to  make  it  a success.  Neglecting  no 


THE  BRADYS 


203 


precaution,  he  pushed  on  stealthily  but  boldly,  and  had  soon  pene- 
trated deeply  into  the  hostile  country.  Here  he  traveled  only  by 
night,  carefully  secreting  his  party  by  day,  and  effacing  with  the 
greatest  caution  every  trace  of  their  presence  in  the  country. 

After  many  days  of  this  cautious  marching  and  hiding,  they 
reached  the  neighborhood  of  Sandusky,  and  here  Brady  began  to 
experience  other  troubles,  more  serious  than  even  hostile  Indians. 
Keturning;  from  a scout  one  night,  he  found  that  his  Chickasaw 
guards  had  deserted — as  was  supposed,  to  the  enemy — carrying  with 
them  all  of  the  remaining  provisions,  and  that  his  soldiers  were  in  a 
state  of  mutiny. 

Carefully  priming  his  rifle,  Brady  told  his  men  that  a single  shot 
would  bring  upon  them  a horde  of  enemies,  but  that  he  did  not 
intend,  on  that  account,  to  deny  himself  the  pleasure  of  killing  the 
first  one  of  them  who  dared  to  attempt  to  desert  in  the  face  of  the 
enemy. 

He  reminded  them  'hat  they  were  soldiers,  and  that  the  penalty 
for  desertion  in  time  war  was  death ; that  their  way  back  was 
fully  as  dangerous  as  that  in  advance ; that,  even  if  they  escaped 
from  the  outlying  savages,  they  ran  the  risk  of  starvation,  as  they 
would  be  unable  to  hunt  on  account  of  the  fear  of  their  enemies ; 
that  they  had  come  with  great  toil  and  danger  to  this  great  distance, 
and  now  that  Sandusky  was  just  under  their  noses,  they  would  be 
fools,  as  well  as  cowards,  if  they  turned  back  without  a sight  of  it. 

This  manly  talk  had  its  effect,  and  begging  him  to  overlook  their 
past  conduct,  they  promised  to  stay  by  him  to  the  death.  The  night 
had  now  come,  and  taking  one  of  his  men  with  him,  he  secreted  the 
others  in  a ravine,  where,  even  if  discovered — which  was  not  at  all 
likely — they  could  repel  a vastly  superior  force.  Wading  with  his 
comrade  to  a bushy  island,  commanding  a full  view  of  the  town, 
they  secreted  themselves  in  the  thick  reeds,  and  waited  patiently 
until  day. 

When  the  morning  came  they  beheld  a most  animated  scene,  the 
town  containing  some  three  thousand  Indians,  who  having  just 
returned  from  various  successful  raids  were  in  high  glee.  Danger- 
ous as  was  the  situation  of  the  two  men,  they  could  not  help  but 
laugh  at  the  antics  of  the  red  men,  who  gave  themselves  up  to  play 
like  a lot  of  school-boys ; still  they  were  glad  when  the  night  again 


204 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


came,  and  with  its  friendly  mantle  cloaked  them  securely  for  a 
return  to  their  comrades. 

Having  accomplished  the  object  for  which  they  had  set  out,  they 
now  began  their  retreat  under  the  most  unfavorable  circumstances. 
Their  ammunition  was  almost  exhausted,  and  of  food  they  had  not  a 
particle.  To  economize  their  powder  and  bullets,  they  made  Brady 
the  hunter  of  the  party,  and  moved  on  as  rapidly  as  possible.  They 
knew,  from  the  conduct  of  the  Indians  at  Sandusky,  that  their 
Chickasaws  had  not  deserted  to  them,  or  if  they  had,  had  given  no 
intimation  of  the  presence  of  white  men  in  their  country,  and  conse* 
quently  they  were  relieved  of  one  source  of  grave  apprehension. 
Game  they  found  exceedingly  scarce,  and  for  want  of  deer  or  elk, 
Brady  shot  a large  otter.  This  they  found  so  tough  and  musty  that, 
half  starved  as  they  were,  they  could  not  eat  it.  For  days  they 
lived  on  berries  and  an  occasional  small  animal. 

At  last  they  got  down  to  their  last  load,  and  the  rifle  containing 
this  was  turned  over  to  Brady,  who,  seeing  a d°er  track,  started  off 
in  pursuit.  A large  rabbit  bounded  off  across  is  path,  but  this  he 
would  not  fire  on,  as  he  knew  how  little  satisfaction  it  would  be  to 
so  large  a party  of  hungry  men.  In  the  light  of  after  events  we 
might  be  justified  in  spying  that  Providence  withheld  the  shot  for  a 
nobler  purpose.  Following  up  the  deer,  whose  trail  became  con- 
stantly fresher,  he  at  last  came  within  easy  shot  of  it.  Carefully 
aiming  he  touched  the  trigger  and  the  gun,  on  which  so  much 
depended,  flashed  in  the  pan.  The  deer  made  off  rapidly,  and 
Brady,  after  carefully  looking  to  flint  and  priming,  followed  on, 
hoping  to  get  another  shot  at  the  flying  game. 

While  stealthily  advancing,  he  heard  the  sound  of  voices  and 
the  neigh  of  a horse.  Quickly  seeking  cover,  he  saw  a party  of 
Indians  come  in  sight,  one  on  horseback  with  a white  woman  behind 
him  and  a white  child  in  his  arms.  The  rest  were  on  foot  and 
strung  out  in  single  file  and  numbered  nine  men,  besides  their 
chief,  the  big,  burly  savage  on  the  horse. 

Brady’s  plans  were  soon  made.  He  would  wait  until  the  last  sav- 
age came  abreast  of  his  hiding  place  when  he  would  shoot  him, 
secure  his  ammunition,  and  determine  then  what  course  to  pursue  in 
regard  to  his  after  actions.  He  did  not  doubt  but  that,  in  the  sud- 
denness of  their  surprise,  he  could  get  off  in  safety. 

When  the  savage  on  horseback  got  opposite  to  Brady,  he  saw  that 
the  poor  woman  had  been  shamefully  abused,  and  just  then  the 


THE  BRADYS. 


205 


brutal  Indian  cursed  and  shook  the  little  child  terribly,  to  punish  it 
for  dropping  asleep.  Brady  could  not  stand  this;  his  plans  were 
altered  in  a moment,  and  he  determined  to  rescue  the  woman  and 
child,  or  perish  in  the  attempt.  By  the  time  he  had  made  up  his 
mind,  the  chief  had  passed  him,  and  he  could  not  fire,  wfithout  great 
risk  to  the  woman.  Swiftly  and  almost  noiselessly  he  stole  from  his 
place  of  concealment,  and  sped  on  ahead  of  the  party  again,  hiding 
himself  until  the  chief  should  come  up. 

The  Indian  was  soon  abreast  of  Brady,  and  the  shot,  which  had 
spared  the  rabbit  and  the  deer,  now  did  its  duty;  the  brutal  savage 
fell  from  the  horse,  dragging  both  of  his  captives  with  him. 
Bursting  from  his  concealment  with  horrible  yells,  Brady  waved  his 
tomahawk,  and  called  for  his  men  to  come  on.  The  other  Indians 
threw  down  their  guns  and  begged  for  quarter.  Tugging  at  the 
chief’s  bag  of  ammunition,  Brady  endeavored  to  get  the  woman  to 
fly,  but  she,  thinking  from  his  garb  and  head-dress  that  he  was 
another  Indian,  would  not  move. 

Telling  her  that  he  was  Samuel  Brady,  and  would  save  her,  he 
again  yelled  to  his  men  to  come  on,  and  seizing  the  woman  and  child, 
dashed  into  the  forest,  just  as  the  savages  began  to  recover  from 
their  panic.  A shower  of  balls  sped  after  them,  but  without  doing 
any  harm.  Fearing  an  ambush,  the  Indians  did  not  follow,  and 
after  a rapid  march,  Brady  reached  Fort  McIntosh,  an  outer  post. 

Here  he  found  his  men,  who  had  heard  Brady’s  shot  and  then  his 
whoop,  as  he  charged  into  the  party,  and  who,  fearing  that  the  sav- 
ages might  follow  him,  had  fled  as  rapidly  as  possible.  At  first 
Brady  was  very  angry,  but  concluding,  on  reflection,  that  without 
ammunition  it  was  all  they  could  have  done,  he  soon  recovered  his 
amiability,  and  they  proceeded  to  Pittsburg,  where  Brady  was  received 
with  distinguished  honors,  and  where  he  found  the  Chickasaw  guides. 
They  had  become  frightened  at  the  danger  of  the  situation,  and  con- 
cluding that  the  white  men  were  bound  to  be  taken  or  killed,  they 
fled,  bringing  the  information  that  the  white  men  had  all  been  cap- 
tured, and  were,  no  doubt,  already  roasted  at  Sandusky. 

On  the  next  scouting  expedition  he  was  accompanied  by  a daring 
but  rash  and  hot-blooded  comrade,  named  Phouts.  They  had  been 
requested,  if  possible,  to  take  and  bring  in  an  Indian,  as  it  was 
hoped  that  valuable  information  might  in  this  way  be  gained.  On 
the  evening  of  the  second  day,  they  came  across  Indian  sign  in  great 
plenty  and  following  up  a trail,  came  to  a camp-fire,  and  near  it  an 


20(3 


O^aJWtfjEKING-  THE  WILDERNESS. 


old  Indian  lying  asleep.  Phonts  thought  this  a regular  bonanza, 
and  raising  his  rifle,  was  about  to  fire,  when  he  was  checked  by 
Brady.  The  latter  now  stole  quietly  up  to  the  sleeping  Indian,  and 
tomahawk  in  hand,  leaped  upon  him  and  seized  him  by  the  throat. 
Seeing  that  resistance  was  useless,  the  Indian  quietly  submitted,  and 
Phouts  coming  up,  he  was  carefully  bound. 

Telling  the  Indian  that  he  would  not  be  harmed,  as  they  only 
wanted  him  for  some  information,  the  old  fellow  went  to  some  thick 
bushes,  parted  them  with  his  feet  and  showed  them  a canoe  con- 
cealed there.  Entering  this,  they  paddled  down  the  river  and 
camped  at  its  mouth.  The  next  morning  Brady  left  Phouts  and  the 
Indian  in  camp,  while  he  went  back  a short  distance  to  where  he  had 
cached  some  jerked  meat.  On  his  return,  when  nearly  at  the  camp, 
he  heard  a shot  and  a terrifi  , yell,  and  dashing  hastily  through  the 
bushes,  saw  Phouts  calmly  seated  on  the  body  of  the  old  Indian, 
who  had  just  breathed  his  last. 

Cursing  him  roundly,  Brady  was  requested  to  look  at  a bullet  hole 
in  the  shot-pouch  of  his  comrade,  and  to  listen  to  an  explanation. 
Brady  told  him  to  go  on.  “You  see,”  said  Phouts,  in  his  laughing 
way — for  he  was,  whenever  anybody  or  anything  but  an  Indian  was 
concerned,  really  a good-hearted  fellow — “the  old  man  and  me  was 
getting  to  be  the  best  of  friends,  when  this  little  unpleasantness 
occurred.  You  know  yourself  the  old  hyena  was  just  as  good  as 
pie — now,  wasn’t  he?  ” 

To  this  Brady  nodded  assent.  “Well,”  continued  Phouts,  “when 
you  left  he  got  cleverer  and  cleverer,  and  I was  thinking  of  getting 
him  for  a pardner  or  a brother,  or  something  of  the  kind.  Well, 
at  last,  he  said  the  cord  hurt  him  awful,  and  if  I would  only  loosen 
it  a little,  or  take  it  off  altogether,  he  would  consider  it  a great  favor. 
At  that  I just  unhitched  it  altogether,  and  the  old  serpent  set  around 
as  humble  as  you  please.  I kept  on  getting  breakfast  ready,  so  that 
we  could  eat  as  soon  as  you  got  back,  and  then  put  out  with  my  pet 
for  Pittsburg. 

“I  didn’t  pay  much  attention  to  him,  and  the  first  thing  I knew,  I 
had  my  back  turned  to  him  and  heard  the  click  of  my  rifle-lock.  I 
whirled  as  quick  as  a wink,  drew  my  tomahawk,  and  gave  my  whoop 
as  I made  for  old  goody.  As  I was  closin’  in  on  him  he  fired,  and 
made  this  hole  in  my  shot-pouch,  and  before  he  could  say  ‘scat,’  I had 
my  tomahawk  into  his  brain.  Now,  that,  Captain,  is  all  there  is  of  it.” 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


OTHER  ADVENTURES  OF  BRADY. 


RETURN  TO  PITTSBURG NIPPED  IN  THE  BUD BRADY  TRAPPED JOY  OF 

THE  SAVAGES A TERRIFIC  LEAP SAFETY ASTONISHED  INDIANS 

ANOTHER  EXPLOIT INDIANS  SURPRISED THE  INDIAN  AMBUSH 

BRADY’S  WISDOM BRADY  TAKEN  IN THE  DESERTED  CAMP THE 

READY  FEAST MURDERED  COMRADES BRADY  CAPTURED MARCHED 

TO  THE  VILLAGES RUNS  THE  GAUNTLET TERRIBLY  BEATEN THE 

STAKE THE  FIRES  LIGHTED THE  TORTURE  BEGINS A STOIC  PHIL- 
OSOPHER  INDIAN  ETIQUETTE THE  BARBAROUS  SQUAW- ONCE  TOO 

OFTEN HER  CHILD  IN  THE  FIRE GENERAL  DISMAY A DASH  FOR  LIB- 
ERTY  ESCAPE  OF  BRADY REACHES  PITTSBURG  IN  SAFETY. 


Lifting  the  old  Indian’s  scalp,  Pbouts  and  Brady  entered  the 
canoe,  and  at  Pittsburg  gave  what  information  they  had  collected, 
with  a probable  outline  of  the  Indian  plans,  and  recommending 
that  a force  be  sent  to  cut  the  enemy  off ; and  so  accurately  had 
Brady  anticipated  the  savages’  ideas  that  this  expedition  met  with 
complete  success,  and  nipped  in  the  bud  a murderous  campaign. 

Scouting  one  day  along  the  banks  of  a stream,  said  by  some  to 
have  been  Beaver  River,  Brady  and  his  force  of  five  men,  came 
upon  the  trail  of  a large  party  of  Indians.  Following  this  rapidly, 
he  came  upon  the  Indians  eating  breakfast.  The  savages  outnum- 
bered them  five  to  one,  but  Brady  determined  to  attack  them  and 
passing  the  word  all  fired,  and  four  of  the  Indians  fell.  Hastily 
reloading,  the  scouts  were  in  turn  surprised  by  a fire  from  their 
rear,  which  dropped  two  of  them  in  their  tracks.  Nothing  was  now 
left  for  the  borderers  but  immediate  flight,  and  all  of  them  darted 
off  swiftly,  in  different  directions. 

Brady,  who  was  in  the  most  unfavorable  position,  was  forced  to 
fly  toward  the  stream  just  spoken  of,  and  only  made  good  his  escape 
from  the  double  lines  of  his  enemies  by  stabbing  two  of  them,  as  he 
burst  through  the  line  in  the  rear.  Continuing  his  flight,  the  sav- 
ages raised  a yell  of  joy,  as  they  saw  him  head  toward  the  creek, 
which  they  knew  to  flow  between  steep  banks,  some  thirty  feet  high, 
with  perpendicular  sides  of  granite.  It  was  fully  twenty-five  feet 

207 


203 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


BRADY’S  LEAP  FOR  LIFE, 


OTHER  ADVENTURES  OF  BRADY. 


209 


wide,  and  they  did  not  believe  that  it  was  in  the  power  of  mortal 
man  to  clear  it  at  a leap.  To  do  this,  or  to  turn  and  face  his  foes, 
were  the  only  alternatives  that  the  brave  scout  could  consider  for  a 
moment;  the  idea  of  surrender  never  entered  his  mind. 

He  saw  the  trap  into  which  the  Indians  fancied  they  were  about  to 
drive  him,  and  nerving  himself  for  the  effort,  he  sped  forward  like 
a deer,  and  was  soon  in  sight  of  the  gaping  chasm.  His  heart  almost 
sank  within  him,  as  he  viewed  the  tremendous  gulf,  but  a death  by 
impalement  on  the  crags  below  would  not  be  more  cruel  than  one 
at  the  stake.  As  he  rushed  onward,  straining  every  muscle  for  the 
spring,  the  Indians  slackened  their  speed,  and  looked  to  their  rifles, 
confident  that  the  scout  would,  at  the  crucial  moment,  turn  from  the 
superhuman  attempt. 

They  did  not  know  the  daring  courage  of  their  foe,  for  without  a 
moment’s  pause,  or  the  slightest  hesitation,  Brady,  rifle  in  hand, 
reached  the  bank,  bounded  upward  and  outward  into  the  air,  and 
struck  the  opposite  edge  of  the  wide  ravine.  Tottering  for  a moment 
on  his  insufficient  foothold,  and  stunned  by  the  violent  concussion 
of  his  leap,  Brady  caught  at  some  bushes  and  succeeded  in  drawing 
himself  safely  on  to  the  bank.  The  Indians  gazed  in  wonder,  and 
before  they  had  made  up  their  minds  to  seek  a crossing  above  or 
below  this  point,  he  had  slipped  into  the  bushes  and  made  his  escape. 
The  concentration  of  the  pursuit  on  Brady  had  enabled  his  compan- 
ions to  get  off  safely. 

At  another  time,  Brady  and  a few  companions  came  suddenly 
upon  a large  camp,  in  which  some  forty  or  fifty  Indians  lay 
asleep,  and  a half  dozen  stood  around  the  fire,  shivering  with  the 
chill  of  the  morning  air.  Stepping  carefully  back,  Brady  arranged 
to  give  a certain  signal,  at  which  his  men  were  to  fire,  and  then 
make  off,  as  there  was  no  chance  of  successfully  combating  the 
superior  numbers  of  the  savages.  When  the  signal  was  given,  the 
rifles  of  the  scouts  blazed  out  and  five  of  the  six  Indians  fell  dead, 
while  the  whites  slowly  and  quietly  withdrew  from  the  scene. 

Not  long  after  this  occurrence,  Brady  came  across  an  Indian  trail 
freshly  made,  and  followed  it  eagerly,  until  his  party  came  in  sight 
of  a solitary  Indian.  Firing  quickly  at  the  advancing  scouts,  the 
savage  made  his  way  deliberately  to  a ravine,  and  disappeared.  The 
scouts  started  rapidly  forward,  but  were  hastily  recalled  by  Brady, 


210 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


and  ordered  to  take  to  the  trees,  his  experienced  mind  having 
detected  all  the  indications  of  an  Indian  ambuscade,  in  the  savage’s 
unusual  deliberation. 

Scarcely  had  the  whites  gained  cover,  when  the  savages,  seeing  the 
failure  of  their  stratagem,  poured  out  of  the  ravine  and  attacked 
their  foes  fiercely.  For  some  time  the  conflict  raged  hotly,  but  thp 
enemy  so  greatly  outnumbered  his  men,  that  to  prevent  being  flanked, 
Brady  ordered  a retreat,  bringing  off  his  party  with  a loss  of  only 
one  killed  and  three  wounded,  while  the  savages  had  lost  in  killed 
and  wounded  at  least  twenty  men. 

One  incident  in  the  life  of  our  hero  serves  to  show  that  even  the 
most  wily  may  be  deceived,  and  that  no  amount  of  experience  can 
guard  against  every  danger.  While  scouting  one  day  with  four  com- 
rades, they  came  upon  an  Indian  camp  but  lately  deserted,  and  in 
which  the  fire  still  burned  brightly.  Near  the  fire  was  the  carcass  of  a 
deer,  that  had  been  freshly  killed  and  nicely  dressed.  From  all  the 
indications,  Brady  came  to  the  conclusion  that  not  more  than  half  a 
dozen  of  the  savages  had  camped  there,  and  he  determined,  after 
eating,  to  follow  on  their  trail,  and  give  them  battle. 

While  sitting  around  the  fire,  enjoying  the  fragrant  venison  steaks, 
Brady,  from  some  intuition,  suddenly  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
they  had  been  entrapped,  and  accordingly  said  to  his  comrades: 
“Boys,  there’s  a trick  in  this  somehow,  as  sure  as  you  are  born — this 
meat’s  either  poisoned,  or  it’s  been  left  for  some  purpose.  I don’t 
like  the  look  of  things.”  No  sooner  had  he  spoken  than  he  heard 
the  report  of  fifteen  or  twenty  rifles,  and  every  one  of  his  men  fell 
dead.  He  himself  was  uninjured,  and  seizing  his  rifle  he  darted  off, 
hoping  to  effect  his  escape. 

In  this  he  was  frustrated,  for  just  as  he  was  about  to  enter  a 
thicket,  with  his  pursuers  in  full  cry  behind,  he  ran  into  the  arms 
of  a dozen  brawny  savages  secreted  there.  Calmly  accepting  his 
fate,  he  was  tightly  bound  and,  under  a continual  guard,  was  carried 
to  the  village  of  his  captors.  Here  he  was  well  known,  and  his 
appearance  hailed  with  yells  of  delight. 

Fearing  that,  if  he  were  allowed  any  rest  before  being  forced  to 
run  the  gauntlet,  he  might  make  his  escape,  they  determined  upon 
subjecting  him  to  that  infliction  at  once.  This  they  purposely  made 
unusually  severe,  and  he  emerged  from  it  a mass  of  bruises,  having 
been  unmercifully  beaten  about  the  head  and  every  part  of  the  body. 


OTHER  ADVENTURES  OF  BRADY. 


211 


Thinking  that  now  their  victim  could  scarcely  move,  much  less 
attempt  an  escape,  the  savages  determined  to  bring  him  to  the  stake. 
So  weak  did  they  suppose  him  from  his  punishment  that  they  did 
not  even  tie  him,  anticipating  greater  amusement  from  the  feeble 
struggles  they  deemed  he  would  make  to  ward  off  their  blows. 

The  fires  were  lighted,  but  before  beginning  the  torture  by  blazing 
rods,  heated  irons  and  burning  coals,  they  stood  him  close  to  the 
flaming  piles  of  wood  and  formed  a circle  around  him,  to  give  the 
squaws  and  children  a chance  to  make  him  sue  for  mercy.  As  well 
might  they  have  attempted  to  wring  a cry  from  a pillar  of  iron. 

The  etiquette  of  the  stake  demanded  that  the  victim  receive 
punishment  without  flinching,  and  endure  blows,  without  an  attempt 
at  evading  or  warding  them  off.  Brady  had  been  too  long  a warrior 
on  Indian  trails,  and  had  struck  too  many  of  his  enemies  in 
battle,  not  to  know  how  it  would  gratify  them  to  see  the  dreaded  pale 
face  flinch  from  the  torture,  and  unmoved  he  endured  their  taunts 
and  blows. 

Only  in  one  thing  did  the  quality  of  his  soul  differ  from  that  of 
his  foe;  he  had  that  undying  courage  of  the  Caucassian  which 
relinquishes  hope  only  with  life,  and  is  quenched  only  at  the  approach 
of  death.  An  Indian  brave,  in  his  place,  would  almost  have  deemed 
hope  itself  as  cowardice.  Brady  never  cared  to  think  of  it. 
Whether  he  was  conquered  or  conquerable,  even  by  fate  itself,  his 
after  conduct  will  show. 

In  the  circle  of  tormentors  was  the  wife  of  one  of  the  great  chiefs 
of  the  Indians,  in  her  arms  an  infant  about  a year  old.  From  its 
gentle  eyes  this  fiend,  in  woman’s  form,  had  learned  nothing  of  the 
divine  quality  of  mercy ; in  the  bruised  and  battered  form  before 
her,  she  could  see  nothing  of  the  claims  of  a common  humanity,  and 
selecting  a heavy  war-club,  she  advanced  from  the  circle  and  struck 
the  prisoner  with  all  her  might.  His  eyes  flashed,  but  he  did  not 
flinch,  and  the  surrounding  warriors  could  not  refrain  from  a grunt 
of  admiration.  Others  in  turn  smote  him,  and  the  circle  moving 
around,  again  it  came  to  the  turn  of  the  chief’s  wife. 

The  bow,  too  tightly  bent,  will  break,  and  patience,  too  greatly 
imposed  upon,  is  apt  to  rise  or  fall  to  retaliation.  As  the  squaw 
approached,  Brady  conceived  a sudden  plan  for  escape,  which  through 
the  means  of  herself  and  infant,  he  hoped  would  prove  successful. 


212 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


As  we  have  already  stated,  the  savages  had  neglected  to  bind  him, 
and  as  the  squaw  left  the  circle,  with  her  club  raised  for  a stroke, 
Brady  sprang  at  her,  seized  her  by  the  throat  and  wrested  the  baby 
from  her. 

This  done,  he  cast  the  child  into  the  hottest  of  the  burning  piles, 
some  dozen  feet  distant.  As  he  had  anticipated,  the  horror-stricken 
savages  rushed  to  the  rescue  of  the  child,  and  dashing  furiously 
through  them,  Brady  reached  the  sheltering  forest.  He  eluded 
pursuit,  and  in  a week  reached  Pittsburg,  whence  in  this  instance,  as 
in  so  many  others,  he  had  set  out  on  his  perilous  mission. 


CHAPTER  XXn. 


JAMES  AND  JOHN  BRADY. 


A SHORT  CAREER A YOUNG  HERO WOUNDED VISITED  BY  HIS  BROTHER 

HIS  DETERMINATION INGLORIOUS  INACTION ARMED  HARVESTERS 

BRADY  CHOSEN  CAPTAIN PLAN  OF  OPERATIONS THE  INDIAN 

ATTACK ONE  AGAINST  MANY FLYING  COMRADES A GALLANT  FIGHT 

SLAYS  THREE  SAVAGES TOMAHAWKED  AND  SCALPED RETURN  OF 

INDIANS TOMAHAWKED  AGAIN CRAWLS  FROM  THE  FIELD A FAITH- 

FUL FRIEND IMMENSE  VITALITY THE  ALARM BRADY’S  NOBLE  CHAR- 
ACTER  IDENTIFIES  HIS  SLAYERS HIS  DEATH AVENGED JOHN 

BRADY HIS  SERVICES ACTS  AS  AMBASSADOR A STUPID  DUTCHMAN 

DRUNKEN  INDIANS THE  THREAT THE  CONVOY THE  FATAL 

FORKS AN  OLD  REMINISCENCE THE  SCARRED  FACE NO  IDLE 

THREAT DEATH  OF  JOHN  BRADY SMITH’S  ESCAPE A MARKED  MUR- 
DERER  LONG  DELAYED  VENGEANCE. 


The  career  of  James  Brady  (brother  of  Samuel)  was  short,  but 
it  was  that  of  a hero.  Enlisting  with  his  father  in  1776,  he  was  pres- 
ent at  the  disastrous  battle  of  the  Brandywine,  and  received  there  a 
wound  in  the  leg,  incapacitating  him  for  further  duty,  and  returned 
to  Fort  Augusta,  then  commanded  by  a Major  Hunter,  as  brave  a 
man  as  ever  lived. 

Here  James  Brady  remained  until  his  leg  had  entirely  healed,  and 
was  then  anxious  for  additional  service.  About  this  time  he  was 
visited  by  his  brother  Samuel,  already  a famous  scout,  and  upon 
the  departure  of  the  latter,  he  determined  to  follow  in  his  footsteps, 
and  become  an  Indian  hunter.  This  was  a period  of  inactivity,  and 
the  boy  had  to  curb  his  ambition.  At  last,  however,  he  heard  of  a 
party  that  had  organized  for  the  purpose  of  assisting  a neighbor  in 
harvesting  his  crop  of  wheat.  Brady  immediately  volunteered  to 
join  them,  and  his  offer  was  gladly  accepted,  as  all  anticipated  dan- 
ger from  marauding  savages. 

The  band  of  harvesters  numbered  about  twenty,  and  were  well 
armed,  as  at  that  time  it  was  necessary  to  go  to  their  harvesting 
prepared  to  drive  off  their  foes,  as  well  as  to  cradle  and  bind  the 
golden  sheaves  of  grain.  In  order  to  secure  the  proper  concert  of 
action,  they  set  about  choosing  a captain,  and  as  the  Bradys  were 

213 


214 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


particularly  noted  for  their  fighting  qualities,  the  choice  fell  unani- 
mously upon  James  Brady. 

When  the  field  was  reached,  the  rifles  were  stacked  in  the  center 
of  the  field,  and  the  men  divided  into  two  forces,  who  started  in 
from  opposite  sides  of  the  field.  This  was  done,  so  that  in  case  of  an 
attack  no  enemy  could  possibly  get  between  them  and  their  guns, 
and  each  party  thus  formed  a lookout  for  the  other.  In  case  of  an 
alarm  from  either  side,  the  men  were  to  rally  to  the  stack  of  rifles, 
and  then  make  their  plans,  according  to  the  nature  of  the  conflict. 
No  plan  could  have  been  better  arranged,  and  the  first  day  passed 
off  quietly. 

On  the  second  day,  however,  just  as  they  were  about  finishing 
their  work,  late  in  the  afternoon,  one  man  discovered  something 
moving  in  the  bushes  near  him,  and  cried  out,  “Indians — Indians  !” 
Two  shots  were  now  fired  by  the  savages,  but  without  effect,  and 
Brady,  having  full  confidence  in  the  courage  of  his  men,  rushed 
swiftly  toward  the  stack  of  guns.  Just  as  he  reached  it,  he  looked 
over  his  shoulder,  and  saw  that  the  Indians,  headed  by  a white  rene- 
gade, were  close  upon  him.  That  instant  the  white  man  drew  a pis- 
tol, but  just  as  he  fired,  Brady’s  foot  struck  a sheaf  of  wheat,  and 
he  fell,  causing  the  bullet  to  miss  him. 

Scrambling  up  hastily,  he  reached  the  pile  of  guns,  and  the  hor- 
ror of  his  situation  may  be  imagined,  when  he  saw  that  he  alone,  of 
all  the  harvesters,  had  made  an  effort  to  reach  the  rifles:  the  rest, 
panic  stricken,  had  darted  into  the  woods,  and  left  him  to  his  fate. 
He  knew  that  to  resist  meant  almost  certain  death,  but  he  did  not 
hesitate;  seizing  a rifle,  he  leveled  it  and  fired,  and  saw  one  of  the 
savages  fall  to  the  ground. 

Dropping  the  empty  rifle,  he  seized  another  and  another  from  the 
pile  in  quick  succession,  and  two  more  of  the  Indians  fell  lifeless  on 
the  ground.  Before  he  could  seize  and  cock  the  fourth  rifle,  they 
were  upon  him,  and  endeavored  to  take  him  prisoner,  but  he  fought 
so  fiercely  that  at  last  one  of  the  savages  felled  him  with  a blow  from 
his  tomahawk,  and  then  scalped  him. 

Thinking  him  dead,  the  Indians  now  left,  but  after  going  a 
short  distance,  some  of  them  returned  to  get  the  rifles,  which  they 
had  overlooked.  One  of  them  suggested  that  Brady  was  not  dead 
yet,  and  a boy  took  a tomahawk  and  sank  it  into  the  wounded  man’s 
head  four  times,  and  all  then  departed.  Some  timP  after  their 


James  and  John  brady.  215 

departure,  Brady — who  at  no  time  had  lost  his  consciousness,  so  great 
was  his  vitality — recovered  his  strength  sufficiently  to  crawl,  in  a slow 
and  painful  manner,  to  the  cottage  of  a man  living  near  the  field, 
fainting  two  or  three  times  on  the  way.  When  near  the  door  of  the 


hut,  he  was  discovered  by  the  old  man,  who  had  heard  the  firing  and 
the  yells  of  the  savages,  and  who  had  taken  to  the  bushes  to  hide 
himself. 

As  soon  as  the  man  showed  himself,  Brady  advised  him  to  go  with 
all  speed  to  the  fort,  as  he  believed  the  Indians  would  return,  and 


HEROIC  DEATH  OF  JAMES  BRADY 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

then  nothing  could  save  him.  To  this  advice  his  friend — who  had 
the  divine  ichor  of  heroism  in  his  veins — replied  that  he  was  old,  and 
the  red  devils  could  not  rob  him  of  many  days,  but  that,  even  if  he 
had  ten  times  as  great  reason  to  fly,  he  would  never  desert  a com- 
rade in  such  distress. 

To  all  the  entreaties  that  Brady  could  offer,  he  sternly  refused  to 
fly,  and  loading  his  rifle,  he  aided  the  wounded  man  to  the  creek, 
and  as  he  had  now  become  very  feverish,  employed  himself  in  bringing 
him  water.  After  quenching  his  thirst,  Brady  lay  down  and  dropped 
into  a sound  sleep,  but  the  noise  of  a horse’s  steps  wakened  him,  and 
thinking  it  was  the  enemy  returning,  he  forced  the  old  man  to  con- 
ceal himself,  while  he  took  the  rifle,  cocked  it,  and  waited  until  the 
horseman  rode  into  plain  view,  followed  by  a number  of  others. 

He  called  to  the  soldiers — for  such  they  proved  to  be — and  gave 
them  a full  account  of  the  Indians,  and  of  his  fight  with  them. 
Before  going  further,  they  determined  to  remove  Brady  to  the 
fort,  and  did  so  with  the  aid  of  a litter,  which  they  fashioned  of 
poles  and  boughs.  Reaching  the  fort,  a delirium  set  in,  and  contin- 
ued until  the  fifth  day,  when  he  died.  Before  his  death,  however, 
his  mind  became  clear,  and  to  his  father  he  detailed  every  incident 
of  the  fatal  attack.  The  Indian  chiefs  he  knew  personally;  one  was 
Bald  Eagle,  the  other  Corn-Planter;  both  of  them  Senecas. 

Years  after  this  tragic  event,  Samuel  Brady,  in  an  attack  on  the 
Seneca  Indians,  at  Brady’s  Bend,  came  across  Bald  Eagle,  the 
slayer  of  his  brother,  and  raging  like  a lion  in  the  fray,  he  fought 
his  way  within  reach  of  the  savage  murderer,  and  shot  him  through 
the  heart,  thus  avenging  the  untimely  death  of  his  noble  brother. 

CAPTAIN  JOHN  BRADY. 

Captain  John  Brady,  the  father  of  the  two  men  of  whom  we 
have  just  given  sketches,  was  the  next  to  fall  a victim  to  the  blood- 
thirsty traits  and  long  cherished  malice  of  the  Indians.  Living  in 
the  vicinity  of  Fort  Augusta,  Captain  Brady  had  rendered  import- 
ant services  to  his  country,  prior  to  his  service  at  Brandywine. 
His  sterling  honesty  and  utter  fearlessness  had  made  him  a gen- 
eral favorite,  and  had  led  to  his  employment  on  many  services  of 
trust  and  danger,  for  his  neighbors  and  fellow-settlers. 

Major  Hunter,  desirous  of  treating  with  the  nation  of  the  Senecas 
and  their  tribal  relatives,  the  Muncies — in  order  to  prevent  their 


JAMES  AND  JOHN  BRADY. 


£17 


joining  the  hostile  Delawares — sent  Captain  Brady  to  meet  their 
chiefs  in  council.  After  a friendly  talk  and  smoke,  finding  the}? 
could  arrive  at  nothing  definite,  the  captain  took  his  departure, 
having  first  invited  them  to  come  to  the  fort  and  continue  the  nego- 
tiation.  A few  days  after  the  Indians  did  come,  but  again  failed  to 
make  a treaty,  as  the  whites  were  either  unwilling  or  unable  to  make 
them  presents — a thing  which  the  Indian  looks  upon  as  his  inalien- 
able right  to  demand.  On  leaving,  they  were  rather  surly,  and  Cap- 
tain Brady  advised  Major  Hunter  to  send  runners  to  warn  the 
exposed  settlers,  and  to  march  what  soldiers  could  be  spared  to  gar- 
rison the  outlying  posts. 

Brady  himself  went  to  Der’s  trading  post,  to  warn  the  Dutchman 
— who  was  keeping  it — of  the  approaching  danger.  On  his  arrival, 
he  found  Der  at  home,  the  yard  covered  with  Indians  in  various 
stages  of  intoxication,  and  a barrel  of  rum  standing  at  the  door,  with 
the  head  knocked  in,  and  a tin  cup  near  it.  Angry  at  the  stupidity 
or  indifference  of  the  fellow,  in  thus  allowing  the  savages  to  inten- 
sify their  malice,  and  work  themselves  up  to  a state  of  murderous 
excitement,  Brady,  in  no  gentle  tones,  demanded  of  him  what  he 
meant.  Upon  this  Der  explained  that,  on  their  way  from  the 
fort,  the  Indians  had  stopped,  saying  that  as  they  had  obtained  no 
treat  at  the  fort,  they  would  have  it  here,  even  if  they  had  to  help 
themselves.  Not  wishing  any  trouble  with  them,  he  had  rolled  out 
the  barrel,  in  order  to  save  other  and  more  valuable  property. 

The  angry  tones  of  Brady’s  voice  had  aroused  one  of  the  Indians, 
who  now  staggered  up,  and  was  about  to  dip  the  cup  in  for  another 
drink,  when  Brady  kicked  the  barrel  over,  spilling  the  rum  upon 
the  ground.  This  rendered  the  savage  furious,  and  though  too 
drunk  to  attempt  to  resist  it  then,  he  glanced  fiercely  at  the  captain, 
and  told  him  that  he  would  have  his  heart’s  blood  for  that  action. 
Brady  knew  the  Indians  well  enough  to  see  that  this  one  was  in 
earnest  in  what  he  said,  and  for  years  he  carefully  noticed  any  of 
the  savages  he  might  meet,  not  knowing  but  that  this  one  might  be 
amongst  them,  and  might  attempt  to  put  his  threat  into  execution. 
At  last,  however,  not  having  seen  his  threatener  for  years,  he 
forgot  all  about  it,  and  concluded  that  the  Indian  had  died,  been 
killed,  or  had  forgotten  him. 

On  his  return  with  his  son,  James,  from  the  army,  the  captain 
resumed  command  of  a post,  of  which  he  had  been  in  charge  before 
setting  out  with  his  regiment.  This  post  was  very  far  out  on  the 
frontier,  and  the  year  after  the  death  of  his  son,  Captain  Brady 


218 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


asked  for,  and  received,  additional  troops,  to  keep  the  savages  in 
check,  as  they  had  begun  a series  of  marauding  expeditions.  In  a 
few  weeks,  owing  to  the  increase  of  the  garrison,  the  supplies  began 
to  run  short,  and  taking  along  a wagon  and  a guard  of  six  men, 
Brady  set  out  one  morning  for  Fort  Augusta,  to  obtain  provisions. 
The  wagon  was  duly  loaded,  and  the  party  set  out  on  its  return. 
They  traveled  in  the  following  order:  two  of  the  soldiers  rode 
about  a hundred  yards  ahead,  the  wagon  and  a guard  of  four  men 
came  next,  and  Brady  and  Peter  Smith,  an  old  comrade,  rode  one 
hundred  yards  behind  the  last. 

Within  a mile  and  a half  of  the  post  the  roads  forked;  one  road, 
being  decidedly  the  better,  though  slightly  the  longest,  was  the  most 
traveled,  and  this  the  wagon  followed;  the  other  was  somewhat 
nearer,  but  not  so  smooth,  and  this  Brady  and  Smith  concluded  to 
take,  Brady  making  the  remark,  that  it  would  be  more  likely  to  be 
infested  by  Indians,  but  that  he’d  risk  it.  On  the  way  he  became 
reminiscent,  and  amongst  other  things  told  Smith  of  the  drunken 
Indian  at  Der’s,  and  his  furious  threat,  and  remarked:  “I  don’t 
know  when  I’ve  thought  of  him  before.”  In  answer  to  Smith’s 
question,  as  to  whether  he  would  know  him,  if  he  should  ever  meet 
him  again,  Brady  said,  “Yes,”  and  proceeded  to  describe  a large 
and  very  disfiguring  scar  on  the  Indian’s  face,  making  quite  a 
vivid  word  picture. 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  a point  in  the  road  where  it  crossed 
a small  branch,  and  the  bushes  and  timber  were  very  heavy.  Slightly 
checking  his  horse,  as  if  from  some  premonition  of  his  approaching 
fate,  Brady  remarked  that  the  situation  was  very  favorable  for  an 
Indian  ambush.  Hardly  had  he  spoken,  when  there  was  a flash  in 
the  bushes,  a discharge  of  three  rifles,  and  Brady  fell  from  his  horse 
dead.  A ball  cut  a slight  furrow  across  Smith’s  forehead,  and  another 
killed  his  horse.  Smith  got  up  from  his  fallen  steed  just  in  time  to 
catch  the  captain’s  horse  by  the  bridle,  and  mounting  as  rapidly  as 
possible,  dashed  on  toward  the  fort.  After  passing  the  Indians,  he 
looked  back  and  saw  two  of  them  hastily  reloading  their  rifles, 
while  one,  apparently  the  leader,  had  just  stripped  the  scalp  from 
Brady’s  head.  That  one  glance  was  sufficient  to  show  him  that  this 
Indian  had  a face  disfigured  with  just  such  a scar  as  Brady  had  des- 
scribed  a few  moments  before  his  death. 

Thus,  after  years  of  waiting,  the  fiendish  malice  of  the  Indian 
was  gratified,  and  beneath  the  murderous  rifle  of  a brutal  savage 
fell  a gallant  soldier,  universally  loved  and  regretted. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


JAMES  HAKROD. 


LOVE  OF  SOLITUDE BRAVE  AND  GENTLE HIS  STRENGTH  AND  DARING 

HIS  MELANCHOLY  END DATE  OF  ARRIVAL  IN  KENTUCKY BATTLE  OF 

POINT  PLEASANT A PLACE  OF  REFUGE AN  ENCOUNTER  WITH  M’GARRY 

AN  INDIAN  MASSACRE HARROD  TO  THE  RESCUE ON  AN  INDIAN 

TRAIL THE  CAMP-FIRE PLANS  AN  ATTACK IMMINENT  PERIL A 

DELAYED  ATTACK THE  SLEEPING  GUARD THE  TIGER’S  SPRING 

KILLS  FOUR  INDIANS THE  RESCUED  GIRLS THE  ROAR  OF  A LION 

DEER  STALKING NOBLER  GAME A FIERCE  COMBAT SLAYS  THREE 

SAVAGES PURSUED  BY  INDIANS HIS  CUNNING  STRATAGEM BETWEEN 

TWO  FIRES A WONDERFUL  ESCAPE IN  THE  INDIAN  VILLAGE A 

HAND-TO-HAND  FIGHT HARROD  TRIUMPHANT A COLONEL’S  COMMIS- 
SION  HIS  MYSTERIOUS  FATE. 


Of  this  pioneer  we  have  but  little  record,  but  that  little  is  enough 
to  stimulate  the  wish  that  fuller  traditions  of  his  exploits  had 
reached  us.  That  so  little  of  his  adventures  is  known  is  easily 
accounted  for;  his  expeditions,  from  a love  of  solitude  or  a desire 
not  to  imperil  others,  were  usually  undertaken  alone,  and  the  mod- 
esty of  the  man  was  such  that  no  boasting  of  his  own  deeds  would 
ever  escape  him. 

From  the  little  that  has  come  down  to  us,  we  know  him  to  have 
been  one  of  the  bravest  men  that  ever  lived,  and  to  his  noble  cour- 
age was  added  a gentleness  of  manner  that,  in  another,  might  have 
seemed  almost  effeminate.  Like  grand  old  Boone,  his  character 
partook  of  no  ferocity  nor  ambition;  malice  and  envy  were 
unknown  to  him.  In  battle  he  was  a lion,  raging  amongst  his  ene- 
mies, but  the  combat  over,  or  in  a time  of  peace,  no  act  of  ven- 
geance ever  stained  the  spotless  purity  of  his  soul.  His  frame  was 
that  of  a Roman  gladiator,  his  soul  that  of  a medieval  knight. 

On  the  wide  border  there  was  no  man  more  daring;  in  all  its 
reach  no  child  more  single-hearted  than  this  frontier  athlete,  whose 
chivalry  was  that  of  a Raleigh,  and  whose  endurance  that  of  a Her- 
cules. Amongst  the  pioneers  he  figured  always  as  a leader,  and 
his  fame  in  that  early  day  was  nearly,  if  not  quite,  equal  to  that  of 
Boone.  Throughout  all  the  settlements,  if  a generous  deed  was  to 

219 


220  CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

be  done,  or  a daring  feat  to  be  accomplished,  Harrod,  equally  with 
Boone,  was  sure  to  be  called  on. 

And  at  the  last,  when  this  brave,  gentle  soul,  who  had  not  a sin- 
gle enemy  amongst  his  people,  started  off  on  the  last  of  his  solitary 
missions — from  which  he  never  returned — every  voice  wished  him  a 
God  speed,  without  a trace  of  coldness  in  its  tones.  The  days 
lengthened  into  weeks,  the  weeks  into  months,  and  still  the  wan- 
derer did  not  return,  and  at  last  hope  died  out  of  the  hearts  of  his 
friends,  and  tears  flowed  even  from  manly  eyes,  long  since  unused  to 
the  agony  of  weeping. 

What  was  his  fate  no  one  ever  knew,  but — whether  he  met  death  in 
manly  combat,  or  amidst  the  hellish  tortures  of  the  accursed  stake, 
whether  he  fell  beneath  the  assaults  of  brute  or  human  foes — all  felt 
that  he  died  like  a soldier,  at  the  post  of  honor,  with  tranquil  soul  and 
heart  undaunted.  No  end  could,  by  any  possibility,  come  to  such 
a man  in  which  his  heroic  courage  would  not  uphold  him,  serene  in 
the  midst  of  countless  dangers,  unafraid  in  the  conflict  with  unnum- 
bered foes. 

Harrod  must  have  approached  Kentucky,  for  the  purpose  of  set- 
tlement, even  prior  to  Daniel  Boone,  though  the  latter  was  certainly 
the  first  white  man  who  effected  a lodgment  of  any  duration  within 
the  limits  of  the  “dark  and  bloody  ground.”  When  Boone  went  to 
the  assistance  of  Dunmore’s  surveyors,  Harrod  had  already  built  a 
log  house,  at  the  present  site  of  Harrodsburg.  About  the  time  of 
this  trip  of  Boone,  Harrod  returned  to  Virginia,  the  State  of  his 
nativity,  to  assist  in  repelling  the  cloud  of  savages  who  were  then 
gathering  upon  her  borders  to  annihilate  the  whites,  and  he  acted 
with  conspicuous  gallantry  in  the  battle  of  Point  Pleasant,  the  most 
fiercely  contested  conflict  with  the  Indians  that  had  ever  occurred  in 
that  State. 

Having  done  his  duty  like  a true  knight,  he  returned  to  Kentucky 
to  make  Harrodsburg  a place  of  refuge  for  the  immigrants  who 
were  then  beginning  to  turn  their  steps  in  that  direction.  Here  his 
adventures  were  numerous,  but  few  of  them  have  reached  our  day; 
in  fact,  not  a tithe  of  them  were  ever  known  to  his  most  intimate 
comrades.  He  despised  boasting  as  he  did  a coward,  and  his  exploits, 
which  were  not  of  general  witness,  never  became  known.  That  his 
courage  was  as  true  as  steel  is  witnessed  by  his  encounter  with 
Mai or  Hugh  McGarry.  who  has  already  been  introduced  to  the 


JAMES  HARROD. 


221 


reader,  and  who,  on  this  occasion,  for  the  first  and  only  time  during 
his  life,  could  have  been  said  to  back  out  of  a fight.  Reading  in  the 
calm,  unflinching  eyes  of  Harrod  the  unconquerable  soul  of  the 
man,  he  wisely  cooled  down,  under  the  advice  of  friends,  and  thus 
one,  perhaps  two  valuable  lives,  were  sparti  to  the  borderers. 

On  one  occasion  the  report  came  to  Harrod’ s cabin  of  the  mur- 
der of  an  entire  family,  with  the  exception  of  two  daughters,  who 
had  been  carried  off  by  the  Indians.  No  one  was  at  the  cabin  but 
Harrod,  and  he  knew  that,  if  the  pursuit  was  not  immediate,  the 
savages  would  escape  to  their  town  with  their  prisoners ; so  leaving 
word  with  the  negro  boy — who  had  brought  the  news — to  wait  there 
and  send  on  any  men  who  might  come,  he  struck  off  for  the  home 
of  the  murdered  family  at  full  speed. 

Arriving  at  the  cabin,  a horrible  sight  met  his  gaze,  but  it  did  not 
cause  his  firm  nerves  to  tremble.  Looking  around,  he  saw  from 
“the  signs”  that  the  murderers  numbered  some  eight  or  ten.  It 
was  now  near  noon,  and  decorously  arranging  the  dead  bodies  in  the 
cabin,  he  closed  the  door,  and  started  swiftly  on  the  trail.  A few 
miles  further  on  the  party  separated ; one  half  going  directly  toward 
the  Indian  towns,  the  other  bearing  off  to  a settlement,  about  fifteen 
miles  below.  Presuming  that  the  Indians  would  take  the  girls  by 
the  nearest  route,  he  followed  the  first  trail,  and  at  night-fall  was 
pleased  to  see,  at  some  distance,  the  light  of  a camp-fire. 

Making  his  way  cautiously  towards  the  fire,  he  saw  that  there 
were  five  Indians  and  the  two  captives  around  it.  Knowing  that  it 
was  too  early  to  attempt  an  attack,  he  retired  some  distance,  and  enter- 
ing a dense  thicket,  placed  his  back  against  a large  tree,  and  “sleep- 
ing with  one  eye  open,” — as  the  hunters  phrase  it — waked  up  greatly 
refreshed,  about  twelve  o’clock.  Concluding  to  see  how  matters 
were  going  at  the  camp,  he  made  his  way  there,  and  found  all  of 
the  savages  lying  down  but  one,  who  seemed  to  be  keeping  a sort 
of  guard  over  the  others.  Being  in  no  hurry  to  attack,  and  noticing 
that  this  Indian  was  nodding,  as  if  very  sleepy,  Harrod  concluded 
to  wait  for  further  developments,  and  about  half  past  one  o’clock 
was  gratified  at  seeing  the  sleepy  savage  get  up,  shake  himself,  and 
then  lie  down  by  the  others. 

After  waiting  some  minutes,  Harrod  left  his  rifle  against  a tree, 
and  began  crawling  toward  the  camp,  but  for  some  cause  the  guard 
got  up,  and  walked  toward  where  Harrod  had  stretched  himself  on 


222 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


the  ground.  Thinking  he  had  been  seen,  the  white  man  was  on  the 
point  of  springing  up  and  rushing  upon  his  foe,  but  just  then  the 
Indian  turned  back,  and  again  lay  down. 


TURKEY  HEAD,  THE  SHAWNEE  CHIEF  KILLED  BY  HARROD, 


Once  more  Harrod  began  crawling  toward  the  camp,  but  unluckily 
a stick  snapped  under  his  hand.  The  guard  sprang  hastily  to  his 
feet,  and  after  looking  around,  he  stirred  ud  the  fire  and  took  his 


JAMES  HARROD. 


223 


seat  by  it.  Cursing  his  luck,  and  crouching  as  close  to  the  earth  as 
possible,  Harrod  waited  for  the  Indian  to  again  lie  down.  Minute 
after  minute  wore  on,  and  fearing  that  the  day  would  break  before  he 
had  accomplished  his  object,  the  bold  scout  began  slowly  to  retreat 
toward  the  tree  where  he  had  left  his  rifle.  The  guard  just  then 
once  more  gave  way  to  his  somnolence,  and  stretched  himself  out  by 
the  side  of  his  companions. 

Harrod  now  determined  to  take  his  rifle  with  him,  as  he  had  no 
time  to  lose  if  his  attempt  would  prove  a success,  and  reaching 
the  tree  where  it  stood,  again  began  making  his  way  toward  the  fire. 
This  time  he  had  better  luck,  and  reached  the  side  of  the  savages 
undetected.  To  draw  his  tomahawk  and  brain  two  of  the  sleeping 
Indians  was  but  the  work  of  a moment,  but  as  he  was  about  to  strike 
the  third  one,  the  handle  turned  in  his  hand,  and  the  savage  received 
the  blow  on  the  side  instead  of  the  center  of  his  head,  and  awoke 
with  a yell.  It  was  his  last ; grasping  his  weapon  more  firmly,  he 
struck  the  fellow  a surer  blow,  and  dropped  him  lifeless  to  the 
ground.  With  a terrific  whoop,  he  now  sprang  for  his  rifle,  just  as 
the  other  two  Indians  rose  to  escape,  and  firing  hastily,  one  of  them 
fell  to  rise  no  more. 

Determined,  if  possible,  to  kill  the  last  one,  Harrod  darted  in  pur- 
suit, but  the  flying  redman  proved  too  fleet,  and  halting,  he  threw 
his  tomahawk  with  so  sure  an  aim  that  it  lopped  off  one  of  the  Indian’s 
ears  and  cut  a deep  gash  in  his  cheek.  The  savage  did  not  halt, 
and  Harrod,  returning  to  the  camp,  unbound  the  girls,  and  the 
next  night  they  were  all  safe  at  Harrodsburg.  Said  one  of  the  girls 
afterward,  in  speaking  of  the  rescue:  “His  whoop  was  like  the  roar 
of  a lion;  it  almost  seemed  to  shake  the  ground.” 

At  another  time,  when  stalking  deer,  and  just  about  to  raise  his 
rifle  for  a shot,  he  heard  the  buck  whistle  and  saw  him  erect  his  head. 
Knowing,  from  the  animal’s  alarm,  that  it  had  scented  some  foe,  and 
confident  that  it  could  not  be  himself,  as  the  wind  was  blowing  to. 
instead  of  from  him,  he  crouched  down  and  awaited  further  devel- 
opments. In  a few  seconds  he  heard  the  crack  of  a rifle  and  saw  the 
noble  buck  leap  into  the  air  and  fall  to  the  earth  dead.  Soon  after 
three  Indians  came  up  to  the  buck  and  began  skinning  it,  laughing 
and  talking  loudly. 

Thinking  he  might  just  as  well  let  them  skin  as  kill  his  game  for 
him,  Harrod  waited  until  they  had  about  completed  that  operation, 


224 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS, 


when  he  fired,  and  killed  the  one  he  judged  to  be  tne  leader  of  the 
party.  Believing  that  he  was  too  well  concealed  for  them  to  have 
detected  the  direction  of  his  shot,  he  turned  on  his  back  and  in  that 
position  reloaded  his  rifle.  In  the  meantime  the  Indians  had  treed, 
but  one  of  them  was  sufficiently  exposed  to  justify  his  risking  a shot, 
and  another  of  the  savages  was  stretched  lifeless  on  the  ground. 

The  third  Indian  had  now  found  out  where  he  was  concealed,  and 
rushed  toward  him  with  the  utmost  fury.  Harrod  set  his  cap  on  a 


HARROD’S  CREEK — SCENE  OF  HARROD’S  ADVENTURE. 


stick  and  began  maneuvering  with  his  ramrod  as  if  loading  his  rifle 
The  bait  took,  and  the  Indian  wasted  his  shot,  when  Harrod,  draw- 
ing his  tomahawk,  leaped  upon  him,  beat  down  his  guard,  and  at  a 
single  blow  split  his  skull.  Gathering  up  the  arms  of  his  enemies, 
and  loading;  himself  with  the  deer  meat,  Harrod  made  his  way  back 
to  his  cabin  very  well  satisfied  with  his  day’s  hunt. 

At  another  time,  when  on  one  of  his  solitary  hunts,  on  Cedar  Run, 
a tributary  of  the  stream  now  named,  in  his  honor,  Harrod' s Creek, 


JAMES  HARROD. 


225 


he  was  trailed  from  his  camp  of  the  night  before,  and  was  fired  on 
immediately  after  he  had  killed  a deer,  and  while  his  rifle  was  still 
empty.  His  only  safety  was  in  flight,  and  at  this  he  was  no  novice, 
when  the  occasion  demanded  swiftness.  As  he  ran,  the  leader  of  the 
Indians  behind  him  kept  yelling  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and  in  very 
good  English:  “Come  on  boys — here  he — come  on  !” 

So  hotly  did  they  push  Harrod,  that  he  did  not  keep  a proper 
lookout  ahead,  and  had  almost  run  into  a party  of  savages,  coming 
up  face  to  face.  Thinking  to  turn  the  pursuit  behind  into  some 
benefit,  he  dashed  right  at  the  oncoming  Indians,  and  began  yelling 
“Come  on  boys — here  he — come  on,”  as  loudly  as  his  pursuers. 
The  noise  had  the  desired  effect.  The  savages  were  not  in  sight  of 
their  friends,  so  they  could  warn  them,  and  thinking  that  Harrod  had 
a large  party  of  whites  with  him,  those  in  front  turned,  panic  stricken, 
and  fled  without  firing  a shot.  As  they  ran,  Harrod  overtook  and 
tomahawked  three  of  them,  one  after  another,  amongst  them  the 
fiendish  Shawnee  chief,  Turkey  Head. 

Coming  to  a deep  ravine,  cutting  into  the  trail  he' was  now  travel- 
ing, Harrod  turned  into  it,  and  quickly  secreting  himself  was  greatly 
pleased  to  see  his  pursuers  go  by  in  full  cry.  How  long  one  band  of 
the  Indians  chased  the  other,  he  never  knew,  but  after  reloading  his 
rifle,  he  cautiously  took  the  back  track,  scalped  the  slain  savages, 
and  made  his  way  to  camp,  there  rejoining  his  comrades. 

Hoping,  on  another  occasion,  to  gain  some  information  that  would 
be  of  value  to  the  settlements,  Harrod  set  off  alone  to  make  his  way 
to  an  Indian  village,  from  which  it  was  learned  that  a marauding 
expedition  was  about  to  start.  Reaching  the  vicinity  of  the  place 
about  noon,  he  secreted  himself  on  an  eminence,  from  which  he  could 
watch  the  gathering  savages,  and  when  night  came  went  into  the  val- 
ley, secreted  his  gun,  and  stole  noiselessly  into  the  town,  and 
approached  the  council  house.  Crouching  down  near  it,  he  over- 
heard their  plans  of  theft  and  murder,  and  turned  to  leave.  Rising, 
he  had  not  taken  a dozen  steps,  when  he  was  confronted  by  a war- 
rior who,  suspecting  something  wrong,  seized  Harrod  by  the  shoul- 
der and  was  just  about  to  give  the  alarm  whoop,  when  the  scout 
caught  him  fiercely  by  the  throat,  and  stunning  him  by  a terrific 
blow  of  his  fist,  succeeded  in  breaking  his  neck.  His  promptitude 
in  acting  and  his  gigantic  strength  were  all  that  saved  him.  A sin- 
gle cry,  or  even  the  sound  of  a struggle,  would  have  brought  to  the 


226 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


scene  a hundred  infuriated  savages,  who  would  have  finished  him  on 
the  spot. 

Harrod  married,  and  was  given  a commission  as  Colonel  for  his 
many  services  to  the  frontier.  His  young  and  beautiful  wife,  whom 
he  almost  worshipped,  was  unable  to  prevent  his  long,  solitary 
excursions,  and  as  we  have  before  shown,  from  one  of  these  he 
never  returned.  Parties  scouted  in  every  direction,  scouring  the 
entire  border,  but  like  so  many  of  his  hardy  class,  he  had  “gone 
under  and  left  no  sign.”  No  trace  of  him  could  ever  be  found — no 
word  of  him  ever  came  from  outlying  scouts  or  boasting  savage. 
His  fate  is  wrapped  in  impenetrable  mystery. 


CHAPTER  XXI Y. 


JOHN  SLOVER. 


HIS  BIRTHPLACE EARLY  CAPTURE ADOPTED  AND  REARED  BY  INDIANS 

RELUCTANCE  TO  JOIN  HIS  KINDRED AS  SCOUT  AND  SHARP-SHOOTER 

WITH  CRAWFORD’S  EXPEDITION LEFT  TO  HIS  FATE HIS  FLIGHT 

IN  THE  SWAMP OTHER  DIFFICULTIES THE  INDIAN  WIIOOP A 

. VAST  PRAIRIE INDIAN  APPROACH ESCAPES  OBSERVATION THE 

STORM LAME  COMRADES A SKIRMISH THE  SURRENDER ESCAPE 

OF  JOHN  PAUL A BRAVE  BOY BROKEN  PROMISES TERRIBLY  ABUSED 

THE  GAUNTLET AN  UNAVAILING  STRUGGLE TORTURED  COMRADES 

CRAWFORD’S  RELATIONS FATE  OF  A SECOND  COMRADE JAMES 

GIRTY’S  LIES SLOVER’S  NEWS A FRIENDLY  SQUAW SLOVER’S  DOOM. 


John  Slover,  of  Virginia,  was  captured  on  White  River,  in  that 
State,  when  only  eight  years  old,  and  taken  by  the  Miami  Indians  to 
Sandusky,  where  he  remained  until  he  was  twenty  years  of  age. 
In  the  autumn  of  1773  a treaty  was  made  at  Pittsburg,  and  coming 
in  with  the  Miamis,  Slover  was  seen  by  some  of  his  relations,  and 
persuaded  to  return  home  with  them. 

This  he  did  reluctantly,  having  become  much  attached  to  his  wild, 
roving  life.  While  residing  in  Westmoreland  County,  Pennsyl- 
vania, to  which  his  family  had  removed,  he  enlisted  in  the  Revolu- 
tionary army,  and  faithfully  served  out  two  terms  as  a sharp-shooter. 
When  discharged  from  the  army,  Crawford,  who  was  organizing  his 
ill-fated  expedition  against  the  Ohio  Indians,  persuaded  Slover  to 
join  it  as  guide.  Not  relishing  the  idea  of  serving  against  his 
former  friends,  it  was  with  the  greatest  reluctance  that  he  finally 
consented. 

When  the  retreat  of  the  army  under  Crawford  began,  Slover  was 
out  next  to  the  enemy,  guarding  horses,  and  no  notification  of  an 
intention  to  decamp  reached  him,  until  the  uproar  of  the  panic- 
stricken  rout — which  soon  began — told  him  of  his  danger.  Selecting 
the  finest  horse  from  the  number  under  his  charge,. he  mounted  and 
flew  over  deep  ravines  and  through  the  heavy  timber  after  his  retreat- 
ing comrades,  and  was  soon  amongst  the  foremost  ranks.  Here  his 
haste  came  near  proving  his  ruin,  for  all  of  the  foremost  line  of 

227 


CONQUERING-  THE  WILDERNESS 


SLOVER’S  FLIGHT  ON  THE  ILL-FATED  CRAWFORD  EXPEDITION. 


JOHN  SLOVER. 


229 


horsemen  plunged  into  a heavy  swamp,  from  which  they  could  only 
escape  by  adandoning  their  horses. 

Some  of  the  fugitives  were  unable  even  to  cross  the  treacherous 
bog  on  foot,  but  Slover  and  a few  others  did  so,  and  once  again  on 
firm  land,  fled  on  swiftly  through  the  dark  night,  their  speed  stimu- 
lated by  the  horrid  yells  of  the  savages,  frequent  rifle  shots  and  the 
shrieks  of  the  wounded  whites.  During  his  flight,  Slover,  who  was 
a very  active  man,  overtook  six  others,  who  had  also  crossed  the 
swamp.  Joining  company  wTith  these,  he  found  that  two  of  them 
had  lost  their  guns.  The  Indians  were  pressing  them  furiously,  and 
turning  almost  back  upon  their  course,  they  bore  off  toward  Detroit, 
hoping  thus  to  throw  their  enemies  off  their  trail. 

In  a short  time  they  came  to  another  portion  of  the  same  swamp, 
and  fearing  to  attempt  its  passage  at  night,  they  laydown  until  day- 
light, and  crossing,  very  foolishly  continued  on  their  course  toward 
the  Indian  towns,  where  there  was  every  reason  to  expect  that  they 
might  meet  passing  bands  of  savages.  At  10  o’clock  they  halted 
for  a breakfast  of  cold  pork  and  corn  bread,  of  which  they  had  a 
small  supply  in  their  haversacks.  While  thus  engaged,  they  heard 
an  Indian  whoop  very  close  at  hand,  and  supposing  themselves  dis- 
covered, they  ran  a short  distance  and  fell  in  the  high  grass,  where 
they  remained  until  they  heard  a band  of  Shawnees  pass  by  laugh- 
ing and  talking  very  loudly. 

When  these  were  out  of  sight,  the  party  proceeded  on  their  way, 
turning  to  the  North  in  order  to  avoid  other  bands  of  the  savages, 
whom  they  judged  to  be  now  returning  from  the  pursuit  of  Craw- 
ford’s column.  Pressing  rapidly  forward,  they  came,  about  12 
o'clock,  to  a vast  prairie.  Greatly  alarmed  at  the  idea  of  crossing 
this  plain — where  they  could,  from  a long  distance,  be  so  easily  dis- 
covered— they  held  a council,  and  at  last  came  to  the  conclusion,  that 
it  was  their  only  chance,  and  so  with  great  caution  they  entered  the 
sea  of  waving  grass. 

After  proceeding  for  some  distance,  the  man  in  advance  called 
their  attention  to  some  moving  objects,  which  seemed  to  be 
approaching  them.  They  at  once  determined  to  hide  in  the  high 
grass,  though  they  could  not  tell  whether  the  moving  objects  were 
Indians  or  some  species  of  game..  They  were  not  long  kept  in 
suspense,  for  in  a short  time  a troop  of  Indians  passed  by  them, 
moving  rapidly  and  noisily  along.  From  this  last  circumstance  they 


230 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


knew  that  the  savages  suspected  nothing.  Again  they  arose  and 
continued  their  flight,  keeping  a sharp  lookout  for  Indians.  As 
they  walked  on,  the  clouds  began  to  gather,  and  soon  the  rain  fell  in 
torrents,  chilling  them  to  the  bone.  There  was  no  shelter,  and 
nothing  was  left  for  them  but  to  continue  their  flight. 

As  the  sun  was  about  to  set  they  came  in  sight  of  a heavy  wood, 
and  at  the  same  time  the  rain  ceased.  Here  they  concluded  to  camp 
for  the  night,  and  rising  early  the  next  morning  they  continued  on 
their  journey.  To  add  to  their  difficulties,  two  of  their  number  were 
now  very  lame;  one  with  a badly  burned  foot,  the  other  with  rheu- 
matism of  both  knees.  The  man  with  the  rheumatism  falling  con- 
siderably behind  the  others,  they  waited  some  time  for  him  to  come 
up,  halloing,  whistling,  and  in  other  ways  striving  to  attract  his 
attention.  At  last  they  went  on  without  him,  and  saw  him  no  more, 
though  after  many  difficulties  he  reached  Wheeling  in  safety. 

Thinking  they  were  now  out  of  danger,  they  changed  their  course 
directly  for  Pittsburg.  Had  their  trail  through  the  prairie  not  been 
so  broad  and  easily  followed,  they  would  have  had  no  further 
trouble,  but  they  had  been  secretly  followed  by  a party  of  Indians, 
and  now,  on  the  third  day,  these  had  got  ahead  of  the  fugitives  and 
were  lying  in  ambush  when  they  came  up.  A volley  from  their 
rifles  killed  two  of  the  whites,  the  rest  of  whom  sprang  rapidly  to  the 
shelter  of  the  trees,  only  two  of  them  having  serviceable  guns. 

Slover  took  aim  at  the  foremost  Indian,  who  raised  his  hand 
warningly,  told  him  not  to  fire,  and  that  if  they  would  surrender 
they  should  be  well  treated.  Upon  this,  Slover  and  two  of  the 
others  immediately  gave  themselves  up,  but  a young  fellow,  John 
Paul,  refused  to  give  himself  up,  and  failing  to  capture  him  the 
band  continued  on  their  way  back  to  their  villages  with  their  three 
prisoners. 

Paul’s  activity  was  as  great  as  his  bravery,  and  he  surmounted 
every  difficulty  and  made  his  way  to  Wheeling.  His  ideas  of  Indian 
honor  and  magnanimity  were  more  correct  than  those  of  his  com- 
rades, as  the  sequel  will  prove.  Slover  was  promptly  recognized  by 
one  of  the  savages,  and  called  by  his  Indian  name  of  Mannuchcothe, 
and  soundly  rated  for  the  part  he  had  taken  against  his  former  broth- 
ers. They  were  then  taken  to  the  town  of  Waughcotomoco,  where, 
oome  four  years  before,  Kenton  had  experienced  the  effects  of  Indian 
generosity. 


JOHN  SLOVER. 


231 


Once  in  sight  of  their  town,  the  kind  demeanor  of  the  savages^ 
changed,  and  they  began  to  howl  out  at  the  prisoners  a recapitula- 
tion of  all  the  injuries  the  redmen  had  sustained  at  the  hands  of  the 
white.  The  squaws,  warriors  and  children  poured  out  at  the  sight 
of  the  captives.  The  usual  barbarities  began.  They  were  whipped, 
beaten  and  kicked,  until  this  ceased  to  amuse  the  savages,  and  they 
then  selected  the  oldest  of  the  three,  and  blacked  his  face.  The 
poor  fellow  asked  Slover  if  they  were  going  to  burn  him,  but  the 
Indians  forbade  him,  in  the  Miami  language,  from  answering,  and 
they  went  up  to  the  victim,  and  in  their  broken  English  told  him, 
they  did  not  intend  to  hurt,  they  intended  to  adopt  him,  etc. 

They  now  proceeded  from  the  smaller  to  the  larger  town  of  the 
same  name — distant  two  miles — having  sent  a runner  in  advance,  to 
inform  the  people  of  their  arrival.  As  the  captives  came  in  sight, 
they  saw  that  the  double  line  had  been  formed  for  the  gauntlet.  In 
running  this,  the  Indians  gave  almost  all  of  their  attention  to  the  cap- 
tive, whose  face  bore  the  ominous  sable  hue,  and  the  other  two 
escaped  with  a few  bruises.  The  chosen  victim  was  savagely  assailed 
by  all;  loads  of  powder  were  shot  into  his  body,  slashes  with  tom  a 
hawks  and  knives  were  inflicted,  and  he  was  often  knocked  down 
with  heavy  clubs. 

Struggling  to  his  feet,  he  made  a superhuman  effort,  and  reached 
the  door  of  the  council  chamber.  Having  heard  that  here  he  would 
be  safe,  he  locked  his  hands  around  one  of  its  posts,  but  was  soon 
torn  loose,  and  again  assailed  by  the  mob  of  howling  demons.  The 
miserable  victim  finally  began  to  return  the  blows  of  his  inhuman 
assailants,  weeping  bitterly  the  whole  time.  At  last  death  came  to 
his  relief,  and  his  head  was  severed  from  his  body,  which  was  quar- 
tered, and  the  various  parts  hung  on  poles  about  the  town.  Slover 
and  his  companions  beheld  the  whole  of  this  scene  of  devilish  cruelty, 
from  the  door  of  the  council  house.  It  lasted  for  about  an  hour. 

Slover  saw,  lying  upon  the  gound,  the  bodies  of  young  Craw- 
ford, Colonel  Harrison,  and  another,  whom  he  supposed  to  be  Col- 
onel McClellan.  All  of  them  had  been  blacked,  and  from  their 
frightfully  mangled  bodies,  Slover  knew,  that  they,  too,  had  under- 
gone the  torture.  The  Indians  asked  him  if  he  knew  them,  and 
when  he  called  their  names,  they  exhibited  the  greatest  satisfaction. 
When  evening  came,  these  bodies  were  dragged  out  of  the  village  a 


232 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


short  distance,  and  abandoned  to  their  dogs,  which  feasted  upon  the 
remains.  By  the  next  evening  the  bones  were  picked  clean. 


slover’s  comrade  running  the  gauntlet  at  waughcotomoco. 

Slover’s  remaining  companion  was  led  off  to  another  town,  and 
never  after  heard  of.  He  was  without  doubt  burned  at  the  stake. 


JOHN  SLOVER. 


233 


Slover  was  now  summoned  to  a council,  to  account  for  his  desertion. 
There  seemed  to  be  no  great  amount  of  malice  toward  their  former 
comrade,  until  the  arrival  of  one  of  the  infamous  Girtys  (James), 
on  the  second  day.  Not  content  with  haranguing  the  Indians,  and 
endeavoring  to  incite  them  to  anger  against  Slover,  this  scoundrel 
invented  barefaced  lies  to  injure  him.  He  averred  that  he  had  asked 
Slover  how  he  would  like  to  live  with  his  Indian  friends  again,  and 
that  Slover  told  him  he  would  like  to  stay  long  enough  to  take  a 
scalp,  and  escape. 

To  the  malicious  charges  and  lies  of  Girty,  Slover  answered  with 
the  untaught  eloquence  of  a brave  and  noble  mind,  and  for  the  time 
his  danger  was  averted,  and  he  was  permitted  to  move  at  will  about 
the  village  unbound,  and  to  all  appearances  unguarded.  The 
intrigues  of  Girty  continued,  however,  and  McKey  also  used  his 
influence  against  Slover,  as  he  did  against  every  white  captive.  To 
questions  of  the  Indians,  as  to  the  news,  Slover  informed  them  that 
Cornwallis  and  all  of  his  army  had  been  captured,  but  this  Girty  and 
McKey  denied  most  furiously,  for  they  saw  the  effect  it  produced 
amongst  the  savages,  and  feared  they  might  he  detached  from  the 
British  interests. 

The  old  squaw  to  whose  lodge  Slover  had  been  assigned  became 
very  much  attached  to  him,  and  when  the  council  of  Shawnee,  Wyan- 
dotte, Delaware,  Chippewa  and  Mingo  braves  assembled  and 
sent  for  him,  she  covered  him  up  with  buffalo  robes,  and  said  he 
should  not  go.  The  two  warriors  retreated  before  her  fierce  invec- 
tives, but  soon  returned  in  force,  wTith  Girty  and  forty  Indians,  and 
Slover  was  stripped,  bound  and  painted  black.  The  prisoner  knew 
his  doom  had  been  decided. 


CHAPTER  XX Y. 


BENHAM  AND  TAYLOR. 


CONCLUSION  OF  SLOVER’S  ADVENTURE HIS  REMOVAL TIED  TO  THE  STAKE 

HIS  DETERMINED  BRAVERY AN  OPPORTUNE  STORM A MIRACULOUS 

RESPITE DELAYED  VENGEANCE JOB’S  COMFORTERS TERRIBLY 

BEATEN A NIGHT  OF  AGONY THE  TALKATIVE  INDIAN HIS  ADVICE 

-PATIENCE  REWARDED MENTAL  TORTURE FREE  AT  LAST THE 

NOBLE  STEED THE  CHASE SUFFERINGS REACHES  WHEELING 

BENHAM  AND  TAYLOR THE  KEEL-BOATS WILES  AND  STRATAGEMS 

A DISASTROUS  FIGHT THE  CAPTURED  BOATS A STRANGE  FATALITY 

BROKEN  ARMS  AND  BROKEN  LEGS CO-OPERATIVE  LABOR A PRE- 
CARIOUS SUBSISTENCE A SPECIAL  PROVIDENCE THE  PASSING  BOAT 

THE  EARNEST  APPEAL THE  FINAL  RESCUE A ROMANTIC  TALE 

SERVICES  OF  BENHAM. 

Slover  was  now  taken  to  a town  five  miles  distant  from  Waugh- 
cotomoco,  and  forced  for  an  hour  to  endure  the  tortures  of  the 
gauntlet.  He  was  then  marched  to  a small  town  two  miles  further, 
and  here,  in  an  unfinished  council  house,  he  was  fastened  to  a stake, 
and  the  fires  lighted  for  his  torture.  Being  secured  as  Crawford 
was,  Slover  gave  up  all  hopes  of  escaping,  and  determined  to  meet 
death  like  a brave  man.  An  orator  now  arose,  and  by  a fierce 
harangue  sought  to  fan  the  flame  of  the  Indians’  passion  to  its  highest 
pitch.  Fierce  ejaculations  greeted  his  oratory,  and  success  crowned 
his  efforts.  But  now  an  unexpected  interposition  occurred  in  the 
victim’s  favor. 

When  the  harangue  began,  the  sky  was  clear,  but  as  it  progressed 
a high  wind  arose,  the  clouds  enveloped  the  heavens,  and  in  a short 
time  the  rain  poured  down  in  torrents,  drenching  both  victim  and 
spectators,  and  completely  extinguishing  the  fire.  The  Indians 
sought  cover  immediately,  leaving  Slover  bound  to  the  stake,  and 
occasionally  yelling  at  him  that  they  would  burn  him  on  the  morrow, 
thus  depriving  him  of  any  comfort  he  might  possibly  extract  from 
his  miserable  situation.  As  soon  as  the  rain  ceased,  the  Indians 
gathered  around  the  stake,  beating  and  kicking  the  captive,  and  this 
they  kept  up  until  eleven  o’clock  at  night. 

Half  Moon,  a young  chief,  then  asked  him  if  he  did  not  want  to 
go  to  sleep,  to  which  Slover  quickly  responded  that  he  did,  and  was 

234 


BENHAM  AND  TAYLOR. 


235 


then  loosed  from  the  stake,  taken  to  a strong  building,  and  tightly 
bound  with  raw-hide  thongs,  which,  from  their  tightness,  cut  deeply 
into  his  flesh.  Another  thong  was  tied  to  a rafter  of  the  house,  and 
the  other  end  tied  around  Slover’s  neck,  and  Half  Moon  then 
departed,  leaving  him  under  charge  of  three  guards,  and  telling  him 
to  get  a good  sleep,  ais  he  would  have  “to  eat  fire”  to-morrow.  Two 
of  his  guards  lay  down  about  midnight,  and  were  soon  sound  asleep, 
but  even  had  the  white  man  been  disposed  to  follow  their  example, 
the  third  guard — a talkative  old  Indian — would  have  made  this 
impossible. 

Smoking  and  talking,  he  endeavored  to  entertain  the  captive  with 
an  account  of  what  he  would  have  to  suffer  in  the  morning.  He 
told  him  how  many  men  he  had  seen  tortured ; how  some  bore  it  like 
men,  while  others  wept  like  squaws,  and  then  he  began  to  wonder 
how  Slover  would  stand  it,  telling  him  that  he  thought  it  was  some- 
what painful,  yet  he  had  once  been  an  Indian,  and  ought  to  behave 
like  a man. 

At  last  Slover’s  patience  was  rewarded;  the  guard  had  talked 
himself  out,  and  his  head  dropping  upon  his  breast,  he  began  snor- 
ing loudly.  With  his  heart  beating  like  a trip-hammer,  from  his 
intense  emotions,  the  captive  began  working  at  his  bonds,  and  at 
last  felt  that  his  hands  were  free.  He  next  attacked  the  rope  around 
his  neck,  but  it  was  fully  an  inch  thick,  and  of  the  toughest  bull- 
hide,  and  his  teeth  made  no  impression  upon  it. 

The  day  began  to  break,  and  in  his  agony  and  the  intensity  of  his 
efforts,  his  breathing  awoke  the  talkative  guard.  He  yawned, 
stretched  and  looked  around,  but  seeing  the  captive  perfectly  quiet, 
with  his  hands  under  his  back,  he  composed  himself  to  sleep  again. 
Now  was  Slover’s  time,  if  he  would  escape  his  fiendish  tormentors, 
and  seizing  the  stubborn  rope,  he  gave  it  a few  strong  jerks,  saw 
with  delight  that  he  was  free,  and  stole  noiselessly  from  the  lodge 
just  as  day  was  breaking. 

No  one  was  astir,  and  darting  toward  a corn-field,  he  narrowly 
missed  running  over  a squaw  and  her  children,  asleep  under  a tree. 
On  the  other  side  of  the  corn-field  he  saw  quite  a number  of  horses, 
and  taking  the  rope  from  his  arm,  he  made  it  into  a halter,  and 
selecting  a fine  young  horse,  mounted  it  and  rode  for  his  life.  Just 
as  he  got  upon  the  horse’s  back,  he  heard  a door  open  somewhere 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


in  the  village,  and  knowing  that  the  Indians  were  now  astir,  and 
would  soon  be  in  swift  pursuit,  he  never  halted  until  ten  o’clock. 

Stopping  to  give  his  noble  steed  a short  rest,  he  again  mounted 
and  dashing  into  the  swollen  and  rapid  Scioto,  crossed  and  continued 
his  flight.  For  twenty  miles  further  the  gallant  horse  bore  him,  and 
then  fell  to  rise  no  more,  having  galloped  seventy  miles.  He  had 
saved  a life  by  his  speed  and  endurance,  but  had  forfeited  his  own. 
As  his  horse  fell,  SI  over  heard  a hallo  afar  in  the  distance  behind 
him,  and  knew  that  his  foes  were  still  on  his  trail.  He  now  ran  as 
fast  as  he  could,  and  continued  his  violent  exertions  from  three 
o’clock  in  the  afternoon  until  ten  at  night,  when  he  fell  exhausted, 
vomiting  violently. 

In  two  hours  the  full  moon  arose,  and  he  knew  that  by  its  light 
the  savages  could  still  pursue  him  at  full  speed.  Eising  somewhat 
recuperated,  he  again  began  his  race  for  life,  and  continued  through- 
out the  night.  When  day  came,  he  abandoned  the  path,  which 
he  had  so  far  kept,  and  taking  to  a long,  rough  ridge,  he  carefully 
replaced,  with  a long  stick,  the  grass  and  weeds  which  he  had 
crushed  down.  In  this  way  he  completely  covered  his  trail,  and  that 
evening  reached  one  of  the  creeks,  which  empty  into  the  Muskingum. 

Here  the  mosquitoes  swarmed  upon  him,  and  with  the  brush  of 
the  thickets  and  the  nettles  of  the  more  open  woods,  almost  denuded 
him  of  his  skin.  In  describing  his  condition,  he  said  that  he  was 
peeled  from  head  to  foot  by  the  time  he  struck  the  Muskingum, 
which  was  on  the  third  day  of  his  escape.  On  the  banks  of  this 
stream,  he  found  some  wild  berries,  the  first  food  he  had  eaten  in 
four  days.  Faint  from  fatigue  and  exhaustion,  he  said  that  in  that 
whole  period  he  had  never  once  felt  the  pangs  of  hunger.  Swim- 
ming the  Muskingum,  at  Old  Comer’s  Town,  he  reached  Stillwater 
the  next  day,  and  caught  two  crawfish,  eating  them  raw. 

Two  days  after  this  he  reached  the  Ohio  Eiver,  opposite  Wheel- 
ing, and  seeing  a man  with  a skiff  on  the  island  there,  he  called  him 
over.  After  great  delay — for  the  fellow  was  fearful  of  Indian  wiles — 
he  was  at  last  persuaded  to  cross  to  Slover’s  relief,  and  in  a few 
minutes  he  was  again  safe  on  the  Virginia  shore,  having  made  one 
of  the  narrowest  escapes  from  torture  and  death  of  which  there  is  any 
record. 


BENHAM  AND  TAYLOR. 


237 


An  escape  from  death  fully  as  wonderful  as  that  of  Slover,  hap- 
pened in  the  fall  of  1779,  when  a number  of  keel-boats — under  com- 
mand of  Major  Rogers — were  ascending  the  Ohio  River.  At  the 
mouth  of  the  Licking  he  saw  three  Indians  on  a sand-bar,  and  a 
canoe  putting  out  from  the  Kentucky  shore,  as  he  supposed  to  bring 
over  those  on  the  Ohio  side.  Thinking  themselves  unseen,  the  whites 
tied  their  boats  to  some  trees  on  the  Kentucky  side,  and  making  a 
circuit  through  the  woods,  completely  surrounded  the  place  at  which 
they  judged  the  Indians  would  land. 

Just  at  this  moment,  Rogers  was  astounded  to  behold  rising 
around  him,  on  all  sides,  hundreds  of  Indians,  whose  appearance  was 
as  sudden,  silent  and  unexpected,  as  if  they  had  emerged  from  the 
bosom  of  the  earth.  With  a terrific  whoop  these  tawny  specters 
poured  a destructive  volley  into  the  panic  stricken  whites,  and  the 
commander  and  forty-five  of  his  men  fell  dead.  The  remaining 
whites  endeavored  to  cut  their  way  through  the  savage  masses,  and 
regain  the  boats,  but  this  effort  proved  futile,  as  the  five  men,  left 
in  charge,  on  hearing  the  tremendous  volleys,  had  cut  loose  the  hind- 
most boat,  and  pulled  for  the  current.  A portion  of  the  ambushed 
savages  had  already  obtained  possession  of  the  other  boats,  and  the 
disappointed  men  had  nothing  left  but  to  turn  furiously  upon  the 
swarming  Indians,  and  again  force  a passage  through  their  ranks. 
This  was  done,  and  the  night  coming  on,  they  escaped  pursuit,  and 
finally  reached  Harrodsburg,  several  of  them  severely  wounded. 

When  they  had  first  burst  through  the  lines  of  the  Indians,  Cap- 
tain Robert  Benham  fell  with  both  thighs  broken  by  rifie  balls. 
The  Indians,  supposing  him  dead,  passed  in  swift  pursuit  of  the 
others,  and  seeing  a fallen  tree,  with  a large  bushy  top,  near  at  hand, 
the  captain  crawled  to  it  and  carefully  secreted  himself,  effacing  as 
well  as  he  was  able  all  traces  of  his  pathway.  The  next  day  the 
Indians  returned  to  strip  the  dead,  and  Benham,  though  suffering 
agonies  with  his  wounds,  and  almost  famished  for  food  and  water, 
kept  himself  thoroughly  quiet  until  they  had  departed. 

The  succeeding  day  he  shot  a large  raccoon,  which  was  descending  a 
tree,  but  was  unable  to  get  it,  and  hearing  a human  voice  calling, 
a short  distance  off,  he  reloaded  his  rifle,  and  lay  perfectly  quiet, 
expecting  every  moment  to  see  a band  of  Indians  appear.  Soon  the 
same  voice  was  heard  still  nearer  at  hand,  but  cocking  his  rifie,  Ben- 
ham made  no  reply.  A third  call  was  now  heard,  and  a voice 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


exclaimed:  “For  God’s  sake,  answer — whoever  you  are — even  if  it 
is  an  Indian  !”  This  convinced  Benham  that  it  was  one  of  the  Ken- 
tuckians, and  he  speedily  called  him  to  his  hiding-place.  It  proved 
to  be  a man  named  Taylor. 

When  Taylor  appeared,  Benham  saw  that  he  had  been  shot  through 
both  arms.  Together  they  made  a complete  man — separated  they 
must  both  starve.  Taylor  kicked  the  raccoon  to  Benham,  who  skinned, 


CAPTAIN  ROBERT  BENHAM,  HERO  OF  THE  WONDERFUL  ESCAPE  AT  THE  MOUTH 

OF  THE  LICKING. 

dressed  and  cooked  it,  then  feeding  himself  and  his  companion.  In 
this  way  they  lived.  Benham  would  load  his  rifle  and  kill  the  game, 
his  comrade  would  kick  it  to  him,  and  also  push  along  with  his 
feet  the  wood  necessary  to  make  fires. 

When  they  wanted  water,  Taylor  would  take  a hat  in  his  mouth, 
and  wading  into  the  river,  would  dip  it  full  of  water.  Benham 


BENHAM  AND  TAYLOR. 


239 


dressed  both  of  their  wounds.  In  this  manner  they  were  enabled  to 
exist  for  several  weeks,  until  their  wounds  healed  sufficiently  for 
them  to  move  about,  when  they  built  a rude  shelter  near  the  mouth 
of  the  Licking,  and  remained  there  until  late  in  November,  looking 
every  day  for  a boat. 

On  the  27th  of  this  month  they  beheld  a large  flat  moving  slowly 
down  the  stream.  This  they  eagerly  hailed,  only  to  see  it  move 
over  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  evidently  supposing  them  to 
be  decoys.  They  continued  their  supplications,  however,  explaining 
wffio  they  were,  and  just  as  they  were  about  to  despair  of  succor,  a 
canoe  put  off  from  the  flat,  and  with  great  caution  approached  them. 
Taken  on  board,  they  were  carried  to  Louisville,  Benham  barely 
able  to  hobble  along  on  crutches,  and  Taylor  only  able  to  use  one 
hand,  and  that  very  slightly. 

Thus  were  they  providentially  saved  from  a horrible  death  at  the 
hands  of  the  Indians,  and  the  whole  account  reads  more  like  the 
improbability  of  the  novelist’s  plot  than  the  actual  occurrence  of  a 
border  incident.  Benham  afterward  served  through  the  whole  of 
the  war  against  the  Northwestern  Indians,  taking  an  active  part  in 
the  campaigns  of  Harmer  and  Wilkinson,  the  terrible  defeat  of 
St.  Clair,  and  the  crowning  victory  of  “Mad  Anthony”  Wayne. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


MORGAN  AND  POE. 


A VENTURESOME  MAN “ELBOW  ROOM” PROWLING  INDIANS A PRESENTI- 
MENT  THE  THREE  SAVAGES A LONG  SHOT MORGAN’S  RETREAT 

KILLS  A SECOND  INDIAN RIFLE  AND  TOMAHAWK HAND  TO  HAND  FIGHT 

THE  UNEQUAL  COMBAT MORGAN  DOWN THE  INDIAN’S  THEFT A 

DEATH  GRIP THE  SEARCH  FOR  THE  KNIFE THE  FATAL  APRON THE 

DEATH  STRUGGLE A TERRIBLE  STROKE MORGAN  REACHES  HOME 

THE  NEIGHBORHOOD  AROUSED THE  WOUNDED  INDIAN HIS  DEATH 

ADAM  POE AN  INDIAN  RAID THE  GREAT  CHIEF,  BIG  FOOT A BAND 

OF  BROTHERS THE  PURSUIT A FLASH  IN  THE  PAN A BOLD  MOVE 

THE  PANTHER’S  SPRING A FEARFUL  STRUGGLE A POWERFUL  ANTAGO- 
NIST  THE  KICK POE  KILLS  ONE  INDIAN THE  FIGHT  IN  THE  WATER 

THE  SWIMMING  MATCH POE  WOUNDED  BY  A COMRADE ARRIVAL 

OF  POE’S  BROTHER THE  LOADING  CONTEST TOO  GREAT  HASTE 

DEATH  OF  BIG  FOOT THE  LOST  SCALP ALL  OF  THE  INDIANS  KILLED. 


DAVID  MORGAN. 

The  hero  of  our  sketch  was  the  brother  of  General  Daniel  Mor- 
gan, and  settled  upon  the  Monongahela  about  the  beginning  of  the 
war  of  the  Revolution.  Being  fully  as  venturesome  as  his  more 
noted  brother,  he  disdained  the  protection  of  a frontier  post,  and 
built  his  cabin  at  some  distance  from  any  other,  to  have,  as  he 
expressed  it,  “plenty  of  elbow  room.”  The  Indians  were  continu- 
ally prowling  about  these  exposed  settlements,  and  one  morning, 
after  sending  the  younger  children  out  to  a field  at  some  distance 
from  the  house,  he  became  uneasy,  and  taking  his  rifle,  hastened 
to  the  spot. 

Here  he  found  nothing  unusual,  and  giving  them  some  directions 
as  to  the  method  of  conducting  their  work,  he  mounted  the  fence 
surrounding  the  field,  and  began  a searching  survey  of  the  neighbor- 
ing woods.  While  thus  engaged,  he  saw  three  Indians  gazing  at 
them  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  field,  and  bidding  the  children  to 
fly  to  the  house  and  have  their  mother  bar  the  door,  he  took  a hasty 
aim  at  one  of  the  Indians  and  fired. 

The  savage  fell  dead,  although  the  shot  was  a long  one,  and  Mor- 
gan immediately  reloaded  his  rifle,  and  getting  down  from  the  fence, 
proceeded  to  cover  the  retreat  of  the  children.  The  Indians,  on  the 

240 


MORGAN  AND  POE. 


241 


fall  of  their  comrade,  had  started  toward  Morgan,  but  when  his  gun 
was  loaded,  became  more  circumspect,  and  took  to  the  trees,  advanc- 


ing from  one  to  another,  and  thus  endeavoring  to  cut  Morgan  oft 
fr^m  his  house,  Seeing  that  his  children  could  now  make  good  their 


242 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


escape,  Morgan,  a man  of  some  seventy  years,  began  his  retreat, 
the  two  Indians  pressing  him  closely. 

In  his  flight  he  passed  through  a portion  of  the  forest  where  most 
of  the  trees  were  too  small  to  furnish  shelter  against  a rifle  ball,  and 
finding  the  Indians  rapidly  gaining  upon  him,  he  turned  and  ran 
back  towards  them  to  gain  the  cover  of  a large  tree  he  had  just 
passed.  This  movement  took  the  enemy  by  surprise,  and  retreat- 
ing, they  took  shelter  behind  some  small  trees,  the  largest  they  could 
find,  but  not  of  sufficient  size  to  prevent  Morgan  from  killing  one 
of  them,  a part  of  the  Indian’s  person  being  exposed. 

His  gun  was  now  empty,  and  again  he  turned  in  flight,  the  last  Indian 
coming  on  at  full  speed.  Had  his  aim  been  as  good  as  that  of  the 
old  borderer,  the  latter  would  have  been  doomed,  for  the  Indian 
halted  and  fired,  not  even  touching  Morgan.  They  were  at  last  on 
equal  terms,  and  the  white  man  stood  at  bay,  clubbing  his  rifle,  and 
waiting  the  approach  of  the  savage,  tomahawk  in  hand.  As  he 
whirled  his  gun  for  a stroke,  the  Indian  threw  his  tomahawk.  The 
weapon  of  the  savage  cut  off  two  fingers  from  Morgan’s  left  hand, 
and  the  breach  of  the  white  man’s  rifle  was  shattered  against  the 
skull  of  the  Indian.  Both  men  were  unarmed  and  at  close  quarters. 
The  savage  attempted  to  draw  his  knife,  and  Morgan  grappled  with 
and  threw  him  to  the  ground. 

The  struggle  continued  for  some  minutes,  and  the  strength  of  the 
old  white  man  began  to  fail,  and  the  robust  young  Indian  at  last 
succeeded  in  turning  him,  and  planting  his  knee  on  the  breast  of  the 
under  man,  the  Indian  began  searching  for  his  knife,  in  order  to 
terminate  the  combat.  In  this  he  might  have  been  successful,  but 
he  had  on  an  apron,  which  he  had  stolen  from  some  white  woman, 
and  his  hands  became  entangled  in  its  folds.  Morgan,  who  had 
graduated  in  the  rough-and-tumble  school  of  the  Virginia  pugilist, 
was  more  than  a match  for  the  Indian  upon  the  ground,  and  getting 
the  forefinger  of  his  foe’s  right  hand  into  his  mouth,  Morgan  held 
on  like  grim  death.  The  savage  howled  with  pain,  and  used  every 
endeavor  to  release  his  finger,  but  in  vain. 

Morgan  now  took  a part  in  the  search  for  the  Indian’s  knife,  and 
both  reached  it  at  the  same  moment,  Morgan  obtaining  a slight  hold 
upon  its  handle,  while  his  opponent  caught  it  firmly  by  the  blade. 
The  Indian’s  hold  was  much  the  best,  but  Morgan  neutralized  this 
advantage  by  grinding  the  Indian’s  finger  between  his  jaws  with 


MORGAN  AND  POE. 


243 


greater  force  than  ever;  and  while  he  was  raving  and  squirming  with 
pain,  the  white  man  gave  a sudden  jerk,  and  got  possession  of  the 
weapon.  The  savage  now  sprang  to  his  feet,  drawing  Morgan  after 
him,  and  made  the  most  frantic  efforts  to  break  away. 

Morgan,  however,  held  on  with  his  teeth,  and  made  a quick  stroke 
at  the  Indian’s  side  with  the  knife.  Striking  a rib,  he  was  com- 
pelled to  make  another  stroke,  this  time  penetrating  the  abdomen, 
into  which  Morgan  thrust  the  knife,  blade  and  handle.  The  Indian 
fell,  and  Morgan  made  his  way  to  the  house,  where  he  dropped 
exhausted  upon  the  floor.  The  neighborhood  was  speedily  aroused, 
and  going  in  pursuit  of  the  wounded  savage,  they  found  a broad 
trail  of  blood,  from  where  he  had  fallen,  to  a tree-top  near  at  hand. 

Here  he  was  found.  He  had  succeeded  in  withdrawing  the  knife 
from  his  wound,  which  he  was  dressing,  at  their  approach,  with 
the  stolen  apron,  that  had  proved  so  fatal  to  him.  With  the  hypoc- 
risy of  his  race,  his  lips  were  drawn  into  a pleasant  grin,  and  put- 
ting out  his  hand,  he  exclaimed:  “How  de  do,  brudder,  glad  to  see 
you,  brudder  !”  A borderer,  slipping  up  to  him,  refused  his  hand, 
and  sank  his  tomahawk  into  his  brain,  after  which  he  was  promptly 
scalped. 

ADAM  POE. 

On  the  15th  of  July,  1782,  a party  of  seven  Indians,  members  of 
of  the  Wyandotte  nation,  crossed  the  Ohio  River,  a short  distance 
above  Wheeling,  and  began  their  work  of  murder  and  robbery.  The;y 
had  succeeded  in  killing  an  old  man — who  dwelt  in  a solitary  cabin, 
near  where  they  had  crossed  the  river — but  in  so  doing,  the  settlement 
had  been  alarmed,  and  the  savages  began  a retreat.  Among  the  set- 
tlers were  Adam  and  Andy  Poe,  both  men  of  the  most  desperate 
courage  and  of  unequaled  strength  and  dexterity.  Of  the  two, 
Adam  excelled  Andy,  almost  as  much  as  the  latter  excelled  the  ordi- 
nary borderer,  in  feats  of  strength  and  agility.  From  the  trail  it 
was  surmised  that  the  Indians  w^ere  the  celebrated  chief,  Big  Foot, 
his  five  brothers,  and  one  other  Indian. 

Adam  Poe  was  delighted  at  the  idea  of  measuring  his  prowess  with 
that  of  the  gigantic  Big  Foot,  who  was  the  warrior  par  excellence  of 
all  his  tribe.  He  was  over  six  feet  high,  with  the  brawn  of  a Her- 
cules, and  his  strength  was  enormous.  All  of  his  brothers  were  large 
men  and  noted  warriors,  though  less  celebrated  than  Big  Foot. 


244 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Pushing  along  eagerly,  Adam’s  rapid  pursuit  soon  outstripped  his 
comrades,  and  brought  him  up  with  the  object  of  his  chase. 

For  some  time  pursuers  and  pursued  had  been  following  the  bank 
of  the  Ohio,  but  all  at  once,  when  near  the  crossing,  which  whites 
and  Indians  alike  usually  made,  the  trail  bent  off  Over  a rocky  ridge. 
Directing  his  brother  and  the  party  to  follow  the  trail,  he 
kept  up  the  bank,  confident  that  the  savages  would  cross  -at  the 
accustomed  ferriage.  Pushing  on  through  the  thick  willows  which 
lined  the  shore,  he  came  to  a slight  bluff,  which  overhung  the 
bank,  and  was  about  fifteen  feet  high. 

Crawling  cautiously  up  this  bluff,  he  peered  over  the  other  side, 
and  there,  within  twenty  feet  of  him,  lay  Big  Foot  and  a small  war- 
rior, unsuspicious  of  all  danger.  Taking  a careful  aim  at  the  breast 
of  the  gigantic  savage,  Adam  pulled  the  trigger,  but  his  rifle  flashed 
in  the  pan.  Seeing  himself  discovered,  all  three  of  the  men  jumped 
to  their  feet,  the  two  Indians  standing  close  together.  Poe  had  hunt- 
ed too  eagerly  for  this  chance  to  test  the  metal  of  the  great  war- 
rior, to  retreat  now  that  he  had  found  him,  and  dropping  his  rifle, 
he  sprang  with  the  agility  of  a panther  upon  the  two  savages.  He 
alighted  full  upon  the  breast  of  Big  Foot,  his  right  arm  encircling 
the  neck  of  the  smaller  warrior,  and  he  bore  them  both  to  the 
ground.  Just  at  that  moment  a firing  was  heard  a few  yards  dis- 
tant, and  the  trio  knew  that  the  others  were  engaged. 

Big  Foot  was  at  first  greatly  stunned  by  the  shock  of  the  fall,  but 
recovering  himself,  he  pressed  Adam  to  his  breast  so  tightly,  that 
the  latter  could  scarcely  breathe.  This  forced  him  to  release  the 
small  Indian,  whom  Big  Foot  ordered  to  get  his  tomahawk,  and  kill 
the  white  man.  Adam  now  redoubled  his  efforts  to  escape  from 
Big  Foot,  but  in  vain,  and  the  small  Indian  came  on  with  uplifted 
tomahawk.  Making  several  feints,  the  savage  approached  to  strike 
the  fatal  blow,  but  when  the  weapon  fell,  Adam  turned  in  the  grasp 
of  the  giant,  received  it  upon  his  left  wrist,  and  gave  the  smaller 
Indian  such  a kick  in  the  stomach  that  he  was  bent  double.  Taken 
by  surprise  at  the  failure  of  his  comrade,  Big  Foot  was  off  of  his  guard 
for  a moment,  and  Adam  wrenched  himself  loose,  and  seizing  one 
of  the  Indians’  rifle,  shot  the  smaller  one  dead. 

Big  Foot,  by  this  time,  had  again  seized  him,  and  placing  one  hand 
on  his  collar  and  the  other  on  his  hip,  tossed  him  ten  feet  into  the 
air,  as  easily  as  the  white  man  could  have  thrown  a child.  Adam 
fell  on  bis  back  in  the  edge  of  the  water,  but  furious  at  the  idea  of 


ADAM  POE’?  STRUGGLE  WiTli  DI'-J  FOOT  AND  THE  LITTLE  INDIAN 


MORGAN  AND  ROE 


245 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


240 

being  so  easily  disposed  of,  lie  was  up  like  a flash,  and  flew  upon 
the  Indian.  It  was  now  a pugilistic  encounter,  and  here  the  superior 
skill  of  the  white  man  began  to  tell,  when  the  Indian  again  closed 
with  him,  and  once  more  threw  him. 

In  the  fury  of  their  struggle,  they  rolled  into  the  water,  and  each 
endeavored  to  drown  the  other.  Here  the  superior  endurance 
of  the  white  man  gave  him  the  upper  hand,  and  holding  the  savage 
down  by  his  long  scalp-lock,  he  thought,  as  the  latter  had  ceased  to 
struggle,  that  he  must  be  drowned,  and  let  him  loose,  in  order  to 
draw  his  knife,  and  take  the  Indian’s  scalpr.  He  now  saw  that  Big 
Foot  had  only  been  feigning  death,  for  he  instantly  rose,  and  seizing 
Adam,  soon  had  him  under.  By  this  time,  however,  they  had  got 
into  deep  water,  and  each  began  swimming  for  life,  both  striving  to 
be  first  at  the  bank,  where  there  was  still  a loaded  rifle. 

Seeing  that  he  was  no  match  for  Big  Foot,  who  was  rapidly  gain- 
ing on  him,  and  having  no  idea  of  hastening  to  the  shore  only  to  be 
shot,  he  turned,  and  swam  further  out,  intending  to  take  the  chance 
of  frustrating  his  foe  by  diving,  as  he  should  fire.  By  this  time, 
however,  Andrew  had  come  up,  followed  by  another  white  man,  who 
saw  Adam  making  for  the  opposite  shore,  and  supposing  him  to  be 
an  Indian  escaping,  fired  upon,  and  wounded  him  badly  in  the 
shoulder. 

Adam  now  turned,  and  shouted  to  his  brother  to  shoot  the  big 
Indian.  As  it  happened,  Andrew’s  gun  was  empty,  and  by  a fatal 
error  Big  Foot  had  seized  the  empty  rifle  of  the  smaller  Indian.  It 
became  a contest  as  to  which  should  load  first.  Big  Foot  had  a slight 
start,  but  hastily  drawing  his  ramrod  from  the  thimbles  of  his  gun, 
it  flew  out  of  his  hands,  and  fell  into  the  river.  Andrew  improved 
the  advantage  this  gave  him,  and  ramming  home  his  ball,  he  took  a 
quick  aim  and  fired,  and  the  Indian  fell,  dying,  into  the  water. 

In  his  death  struggle,  the  gallant  savage  rolled  himself  over  so  as 
to  gain  the  current  of  the  river,  and  Adam  cried  loudly  to  his 
brother  to  get  his  scalp,  but  Andrew  was  so  intent  on  saving  Adam, 
that  he  paid  no  heed  to  him,  and  the  body  of  Big  Foot  was  swept 
out  of  reach,  his  head  still  wearing  its  warlike  trophy,  which  in  life 
he  had  so  bravely  defended.  Every  one  of  the  Indians  was  killed, 
and  the  loss  of  Big  Foot,  and  his  five  scarcely  less  noted  brothers, 
was  an  irreparable  one  to  the  Wyandottes.  To  the  credit  of  the  six 
brothers,  be  it  said  that  they  at  all  times  opposed  the  torture  of  the 
stake,  and  had  saved  many  a poor  prisoner  from  its  infliction.  Their 
conduct  had,  for  savages,  been  as  magnanimous  as  it  had  been  brave. 


I 


I 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


DE  SOTO. 


PONCE  DE  LEON THE  FOUNTAIN  OF  YOUTH THE  ARKANSAS  HOT  SPRINGS 

DISCOVERER  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI CHARACTER  OF  DE  SOTO HIS 

SORDID  PURPOSE SEARCH  FOR  TREASURE WINS  A WIFE A COM- 
RADE OF  PIZARRO THE  SPOILS  OF  CUZCO DE  SOTO’S  EXPEDITION 

MOBILE A HEAVY  BATTLE DE  SOTO  VICTORIOUS DISCOVERS  THE 

MISSISSIPPI FLEET  OF  CANOES CROSSES  THE  MISSISSIPPI VISITS 

MISSOURI ON  WHITE  RIVER AN  UNBROKEN  WILDERNESS SPANISH 

BRUTALITY FATAL  FEVERS ILLNESS  OF  DE  SOTO APPOINTS  A SUC- 
CESSOR  DEATH  OF  DE  SOTO HIS  LAST  RESTING  PLACE FATE  OF 

HIS  COMRADES A BROKEN  HEART DONNA  ANNA’S  DEATH. 


Though  some  historians  have  thought  that  Ponce  de  Leon  pene- 
trated almost,  if  not  quite,  to  the  Mississippi  River,  in  his  search 
for  the  golden  “Fountain  of  Eternal  Youth,’’  yet  all  such  suppo- 
sitions are  mere  surmises,  and  as  such  are  not  worthy  of  a place  in 
an  account  pretending  to  accuracy.  These  vague  guesses  arise  from 
the  probability  that  the  fabulous  fountain  of  the  Florida  Indians 
was  none  other  than  the  celebrated  Ouachita  Hot  Springs,  of  Arkan- 
sas, whose  virtues  were  magnified,  as  the  tale  was  transmitted  from 
tribe  to  tribe,  and  finally  reached  the  Atlantic  Coast  in  the  seductive 
form  in  which  Ponce  de  Leon  heard  it. 

There  is,  really,  little  doubt  that  De  Soto  was  the  first  of  the  Cau- 
casian race  to  behold  that  mighty  stream,  whose  valleys  are  destined 
to  support  a population  almost  as  great  as  the  combined  nations  of 
Europe.  That  it  was  not  with  the  noble  idea  of  benefiting  future 
generations  by  the  discovery  of  rich  territories,  upon  whose  fertile 
bosoms  grand  empires  might  be  founded,  does  not  detract  from  the 
honor  of  the  discovery ; still  it  is  as  well  to  disabuse  the  minds  of 
all,  of  the  commonly  accepted  idea,  that  De  Soto  was  one  of  those 
grand  pioneers,  who,  like  Columbus,  crossed  the  trackless  seas  in 
the  interests  of  science,  impelled  by  the  irresistible  impulses  of 
genius  or  philanthropy. 

In  the  case  of  De  Soto,  we  find  a brave,  hardy  Spaniard,  of  the 
sordid  type  of  Pizarro  or  Cortez;  in  his  expedition,  nothing  more 

. 2 47 


I 


248  CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

than  a search  for  new  empires,  similar  to  Peru  and  Mexico,  from 
which  gold  and  treasure  might  be  extorted,  at  any  cost  of  torture 
and  misery  to  the  wretched  inhabitants.  Ilis  accidental  discovery 
of  the  grandest  river  in  the  world  adds  nothing  to  the  nobility  of 
his  intentions,  and  when  disappointed  in  his  search  for  cities  like 
Cuzco  and  Mexico,  it  is  doubtful  if  he  gave  a single  thought  to  the 
noble  stream,  upon  whose  banks  he  was  destined  to  die,  or  attached 
the  slightest  importance  to  the  discovery.  Avarice,  not  honor,  was 
the  mistress  of  his  soul;  gold,  not  discovery,  was  the  object  of  his 
search.  In  this  he  was  not  unlike  others  of  his  day  and  nation, 
whose  most  adventurous  men  looked  on  the  robbery  and  enslave  - 
ment  of  the  natives  of  America  as  honorable  and  legitimate. 


FERDINAND  DE  SOTO. 

De  Soto  had  won  his  wife  with  Peruvian  gold,  (not  that  gold  couM 
buy  the  love  of  that  noble  woman,  only  it  was  necessary  to  purchase 
the  consent  of  her  mercenary  father),  and  becoming  enraptured  with 
the  charms  of  conquest  and  of  rapine,  he  sought,  after  his  service 
with  Pizarro  in  Peru,  to  find  other  fields  of  similar  adventure,  Cor- 
tez having  already  been  beforehand  in  Mexico,  and  plundered  the 
rich  capital  of  the  Aztec  empire.  Fully  believing  that  there  were 
other  cities  equally  as  rich,  on  the  vast  continent  of  North  America, 
he  organized  his  expedition  with  the  aim  of  their  spoliation  in  view. 
Let  his  object  have  been  what  it  may,  however,  he  was  one  of  the 
western  pioneers,  and  the  first  of  them,  and  as  such  must  claim  a 
place  in  our  narrative.  __ 


r>E  SOTO. 


249 


De  Soto’s  earliest  exploits  were  performed,  as  already  said,  under 
the  eye  of  his  dear  friend,  Pizarro,  and  at  the  fall  of  Cuzco  he  dis- 
tinguished himself  above  all  others  by  his  gallantry  in  storming  that 
unfortunate  city.  Here  the  famous  Inca  of  Peru,  Atahualpa,  was 
captured,  and  De  Soto  shared  in  the  spoils  wrung  from  him.  Here 
was  the  far-famed  Temple  of  the  Sun,  upon  whose  eastern  wall 
flamed  a glowing,  golden  image  of  that  luminary,  displaying  a won- 
derful knowledge  of  the  goldsmith’s  art,  and  worth  millions  of  dol- 
lars. This  formed  part  of  the  loot  of  the  warlike  conquerers. 

Returning  to  Spain,  laden  with  these  spoils,  De  Soto  fitted  out  an 
expedition  of  six  hundred  men  and  three  hundred  horses,  with  which 
he  intended  to  reach  the  interior  of  North  America,  where,  from  the 
tales  of  the  Indians  and  his  own  surmises,  he  did  not  doubt  but 
there  were  other  kingdoms  as  rich  as  Peru  or  Mexico.  Sailing 
about  the  close  of  the  year  1538,  he  touched  at  Cuba,  and  leaving 
his  wife  in  command  there,  reached  Espiritu  Santa  Bay,  Florida, 
in  May,  1539.  Landing  his  men,  horses,  and  bloodhounds — for 
these  latter  were  an  invariable  part  of  all  Spanish  expeditions — he 
reached  Flint  River,  near  Apalachee  Bay,  where  he  spent  some  time, 
and  late  in  July  reached  the  Coosa  River,  and  marching  on,  approached 
Mavilla  (now  Mobile),  a large  fortified  Indian  town. 

Their  cruelty  and  overbearing  disposition  had  greatly  exasperated 
the  natives,  and  when  they  attempted  to  occupy  Mobile,  they 
found  the  Indians  ready  to  receive  them.  Here  a fierce  battle 
raged  for  hours,  but  at  last  the  discipline  and  fire-arms  of  the  Span- 
iards gained  the  day,  and  setting  fire  to  the  town,  they  beheld  with 
satisfaction  those  of  the  Indians  who  had  escaped  their  swords,  bul- 
lets and  battle  axes,  perish  in  its  flames.  Of  the  Indians,  more 
than  twenty-five  hundred  were  destroyed,  while  of  the  invaders  one 
hundred  and  fifty  were  killed,  seventy  wounded,  and  they  lost  twelve 
of  their  horses. 

Notwithstanding  his  victory,  DeSoto  retreated  northward  to  Chi- 
caca,  an  Indian  town  on  the  western  bank  of  the  Yazoo.  Here  his 
purposes  of  depredation  were  again  shown,  by  seizing  some  of  the 
natives  as  slaves.  At  night,  masking  their  purpose  by  a show  of 
submission,  these  rose  on  the  Spaniards,  set  fire  to  their  own  town, 
and  succeeded  m killing  eleven  of  the  whites  and  a large  number  of 
their  horses,  which  they  regarded  with  as  great  a hatred  as  they  did 
the  men. 


250 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


In  the  flames  the  troops  of  De  Soto  lost  most  of  their  arms,  and 
retreated  to  the  West,  ambushed  by  hostile  parties  and  suffering 
great  difficulties ; but  on  the  seventh  day  they  reached  the  broad 
waters  of  the  Mississippi,  at  the  lowest  of  the  Chickasaw  Bluffs. 
The  grandeur  of  their  discovery  does  not  seem  to  have  impressed 
them  in  any  other  way  than  with  a sentiment  of  disgust  that  they 
must  make  considerable  preparations  to  ferry  it.  The  broad  reaches 
of  this  inland  river,  winding  between  fertile  banks,  fringed  with 
gigantic  forests,  and  dotted  with  innumerable  islands,  were  to  them 
only  a barrier  to  halt  them  in  their  search  for  plunder. 


While  being  delayed  here,  building 
barges  or  scows  to  transport  them- 
selves and  horses  across  the  river,  they  were  visited  by  many  chiefs, 
who  came  in  immense  canoes,  two  hundred  in  number.  Under  awn- 
ings of  woven  grasses  and  barks  reposed  the  chiefs,  while  their 
thousands  of  followers  plied  their  paddles  with  a rythmic  regularity, 
and  in  graceful  array  the  imposing  pageant  swept  down  the  river. 
Bringing  with  them  gifts  for  the  strangers — whom  they  thought  of 


t>£  SOTO. 


251 


Supernatural  origin — the  conduct  of  the  latter  soon  convinced  them 
that  the  whites  were  but  men,  and  very  sordid  ones  at  that,  and 
when  the  Spaniards  were  ready  to  cross  the  river,  it  was  with  diffi- 
culty the  chiefs  restrained  their  followers  from  disputing  their 
passage. 

After  crossing,  De  Soto  soon  reached  the  vicinity  of  New  Madrid, 
Missouri,  and  from  that  point  made  his  way  to  the  headwaters  of 
White  River,  and  not  finding  there  any  treasure  cities,  he  deflected 
to  the  South,  and  spent  the  winter  amongst  the  Tunica  Indians,  at 
their  town,  Antiamque,  near  the  Arkansas  Hot  Springs.  It  is  highly 
probable  that  these  Indians  were  the  ancestors  of  the  Navajos — who 
seem  ever  to  have  had  the  divine  germ  of  civilization  amongst  them — 
as  they  are  represented  as  having  fixed  abodes,  cultivating  grains, 
and  weaving  a cloth  of  the  delicate  inner  barks  of  certain  trees. 
The  brutality  of  the  Spaniards  was  here  fully  revealed,  these  gener- 
ous and  peaceful  Indians  being  abused  frightfully,  hunted  and  torn  by 
bloodhounds,  and  otherwise  cruelly  tortured. 

Not  having  yet  succeeded  in  the  object  of  their  search,  the  wan- 
derings of  the  Spaniards  again  began  in  the  spring,  and  through 
matted  morass,  tangled  cane-brakes  and  dense  forests,  they  made 
their  weary  way  to  the  mouth  of  Red  River.  From  the  natives 
here  they  learned,  that  the  country  below  was  an  unbroken  wilder- 
ness, whose  lonely  desolation  was  not  the  abode  of  a single 
human  creature. 

Not  knowing  which  way  to  turn,  the  revenge  of  the  outraged 
natives  was  soon  about  to  be  complete.  Worn  down  by  continual 
exposure,  tormented  during  the  day  by  the  innumerable  gnats  and 
other  insects,  and  unable  to  sleep  at  night  from  the  stings  of  the 
swarming  musquitoes,  their  debilitated  systems  gave  way  to  attacks 
of  fatal  fevers,  and  they  died  with  frightful  rapidity.  Such  of  their 
horses  as  did  not  succumb  to  the  same  difficulties  wandered  off  into 
the  forests,  and  were  lost. 

To  add  to  their  dismay,  their  hardy  leader  sickened,  and  at  the 
thoughts  of  losing  him,  they  gave  way  to  the  utmost  despair.  At 
last,  when  £>e  Soto  saw  that  his  death  was  only  a question  of  time, 
he  looked  the  grim  monster  calmly  in  the  face,  and  set  about  making 
his  preparations  for  meeting  him.  Calling  his  men  to  him,  he  told 
them  that  in  a short  time  some  other  must  lead  them,  and  begged 
them,  before  he  departed,  to  choose  his  successor. 


252 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Unwilling  to  do  this,  they  asked  that  he  should  name  the  one  he 
deemed  most  worthy  to  succeed  him.  To  this  request  he  acceeded, 
and  appointed  Moscosco,  and  then,  feeling  the  near  approach  of 
death,  he  bade  his  followers  adieu,  dismissed  them,  and  sending  for 
the  priest,  submitted  himself  to  his  ghostly  offices.  In  a short  time 
after  receiving  the  sacrament,  he  commended  his  soul  to  God  and 
passed  quietly  away.  Thus,  on  the  21st  day  of  May,  1542,  aied,  in 
the  prime  of  life,  Ferdinand  DeSoto,  aged  forty-two  years. 

Attempting  in  vain  to  reach  Mexico  by  land,  the  followers  of 
De  Soto  returned  to  the  Mississippi  River,  and  building  vessels, 
floated  down  that  stream  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  finally  reached 
Panuco,  on  the  Mexican  coast;  and  here  we  leave  them.  Owing  to 


BURIAL  OF  DE  SOTO. 


brawls  and  duels  amongst  themselves,  but  a small  remnant  of  the 
band  ever  reached  Cuba  or  Spain ? most  of  them  having  perished  in 
their  wanderings  along  the  Mississippi  and  its  tributaries,  or  after 
their  arrival  in  Mexico.  So  ended  an  expedition,  conceived  in 
avarice,  and  carried  out  with  brutality. 

After  the  death  of  De  Soto,  his  comrades  desired,  for  their  own 
protection,  to  perpetuate  the  idea  of  his  supernatural  origin,  and 
concealing  his  death,  they  wrapped  his  body — clad  in  its  ponderous 
armor — in  a winding  sheet,  and  heavily  weighting  the  latter,  they 
guarded  it  jealously  until  the  midnight  darkness,  and  pushing  off  in 
a light  canoe,  with  this  solemn^  freight,  they  committed  it  to  the 


DE  SOTO. 


253 


murky  waters  of  the  noble  river  that  he  of  all  white  men  had  been 
the  first  to  behold.  A solitary  link-man,  with  a single  torch,  a priest, 
with  his  spotless  robes  and  gilded  crucifix,  and  half  a dozen  of  his 
trusty  followers,  formed  the  funeral  cortege  of  the  ill-fated  adven- 
turer. 

Thus,  in  the  western  wilds,  perished  one  for  whom  a brighter  des- 
tiny might  well  have  been  predicted.  His  frenzied  search  for  gold 
had  terminated  in  disappointment,  despair  and  death;  his  dreary 
wanderings — beset  with  toil  and  dangers,  harassed  by  care  and  suf- 
ferings— had  led  him  on,  by  devious  paths,  to  his  own  solitary 
grave,  beneath  the  rushing  torrent  of  the  mighty  Mississippi.  Bat- 
tling against  terrible  odds,  and  pursuing  the  object  of  his  quest  with 
indomitable  zeal  and  courage,  when  the  inevitable  came,  he  met  it 
with  fearlessness,  and  crowned  a life  of  daring  adventure,  cruelty 
and  carnage  with  the  calm  and  hopeful  death  of  a devotee. 

It  was  three  years  before  news  of  her  husband’s  death  reached 
the  noble  Donna  Anna,  and  in  three  days  she,  too,  had  passed  away, 
a victim  to  her  grief  for  one  who — whatever  may  have  been  his 
faults  in  the  eyes  of  others — to  her  was  ever  a gallant  hero,  and  the 
object  of  her  undying  devotion.  Of  her  it  might  be  truly  written 
that  she  died  of  a broken  heart. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


HEROIC  WOMEN. 


COURAGE  OF  THE  SOFTER  SEX MICHELET’S  OPINION STORY  OF  JAEL THE 

WARLIKE  SEM2RAMIS BOADICEA  AND  ISABELLA HEROINES  OF  AMER- 
ICA COMPARED  WITH  THOSE  OF  OTHER  LANDS PART  PLAYED  BY  BORDER 

WOMEN OUR  DUTY VANISHING  VETERANS MRS.  PARKER HER 

FAMILY A FATAL  HUNT THE  LYING  INDIAN THE  BOY  MESSENGER 

PREPARATIONS  FOR  A SIEGE THE  SIMULATED  VOICE DETECTION 

THE  ATTACK  ON  THE  CABIN AN  INDIAN  KILLED THE  WOMEN’S 

RUSE ITS  SUCCESS THE  VOLLEY -THE  BATTERING  RAM ANOTHER 

INDIAN  KILLED FLIGHT  OF  THE  THIRD  SAVAGE THE  WOMEN  PREPARE 

TO  LEAVE THEIR  PRIVATIONS ESCAPE  TO  ST.  LOUIS SEARCH  FOR 

THE  MISSING  MEN A FORMER  ADVENTURE ITS  LUCKY  TERMINATION. 


As  may  be  gathered  from  some  of  the  incidents  already  related, 
the  heroic  courage  and  patient  endurance  of  the  border  was  not  con- 
fined solely  to  its  brave  men — lovely  women,  too,  exhibited  a forti- 
tude and  a daring  as  noble  as  wonderful.  We  are  too  apt,  while 
granting  to  the  softer  sex  the  possession  of  endurance  and  passive 
courage,  to  deny  to  it  the  bravery  that  dares,  the  heroism  that  acts. 

So  much  is  this  the  case  that  quaint  old  Michelet — at  once  the 
plainest  and  tenderest  writer  that  ever  painted  woman  and  her 
thoughts  and  actions — says*  “The  bravery  of  woman  is  endurance, 
her  heroism  is  to  suffer  and  to  give,  but  not  to  act.”  \ 

While  this  is  mainly  true,  yet,  in  every  stage  of  history,  we  see 
notable  exceptions.  In  Judges  we  find  Jael  killing  Sisera,  though 
the  manner  of  the  killing  was  hardly  so  commendable  as  the  act:  — 
“And  Jael  went  out  to  meet  Sisera,  and  said  unto  him,  ‘Turn  in,  my 
lord,  turn  in  to  me;  fear  not.’  And  when  he  had  turned  in  unto  . 
her  into  the  tent,  she  covered  him  with  a mantle.”  When  he  had 
drunk  some  milk,  which  she  gave  him,  he  fell  asleep.  “Then  Jael, 
Heber’s  wife,  took  a nail  of  the  tent,  and  took  a hammer  in  her  hand, 
and  went  softly  unto  him,  and  smote  the  nail  into  his  temples  and 
fastened  it  into  the  ground,  for  he  was  fast  asleep  and  weary,  so  he 
died.”  This  is  the  Bible  account.  S 

Are  not  the  legends  of  mighty  Nineveh  filled  with  the  exploits  of 
the  warlike  Semiramis,  and  do  not  the  annals  of  Assyria  reflect  her 

254  i . 


HEROIC  WOMEN. 


mighty  deeds?  Babylon,  the  beautiful — with  its  towering  walls  and 
its  hundred  brazen  gates;  its  gently  flowing  canals,  and  its  wonderful 
hanging  gardens;  its  myriads  of  artisans,  and  its  hosts  of  warriors — 
was  the  dream  of  her  brain,  the  work  of  her  hands. 

Who  has  not  read  of  Boadicea,  Queen  of  the  Britons,  and  her 
brave  but  ill-fated  efforts  to  drive  off  the  haughty  Roman  invader? 
Where  the  fury  of  battle  waxed  the  fiercest,  there  she  raged 
like  a lioness  robbed  of  her  whelps;  where  her  bravest  warriors 
shuddered  at  the  terrible  onset  of  Rome’s  trained  legions,  there  was 
she  to  encourage  and  to  aid  them,  and  at  last,  when  the  retreat  must 
come — when  savage  valor  could  no  longer  withstand  the  disciplined 
courage  of  the  cohorts  of  the  most  martial  people  the  world  ever 
saw — hers  was  the  only  chariot  that  did  not  turn  in  the  inevitable 
flight.  Throwing  herself  upon  her  spear,  she  died  like  a true  heroine, 
easting  away  life,  when  all  that  made  it  noble,  or  of  any  worth, 
was  gone. 

Upon  the  river  Thermodon,  in  Pontus,  dwelt  that  mighty  race  of 
warlike  women,  the  Amazons,  amongst  whom  valor  and  heroism 
were  not  the  exception,  but  the  rule.  Long  time  deemed  a myth, 
the  tale  of  their  exploits,  in  our  day  finds  confirmation  in  the  fierce 
body-guard  of  Dahomey’s  sable  king — a thousand  women,  the  bravest 
of  his  soldiers.  An  old  legend  has  it  that  one  of  the  Amazonian 
queens,  Pethesilea,  came,  after  Hector’s  death,  to  aid  the  Trojans, 
and  fell  beneath  the  mighty  arm  of  no  less  a warrior  than  Achilles. 

Isabella,  the  gracious  and  generous  queen  of  Ferdinand,  camped 
with  her  armies  before  the  walls  of  Grenada,  and  her  devoted  cour- 
age stimulated  the  flagging  spirits  of  her  discouraged  soldiers.  With 
all  her  bravery,  she  had  a true  woman’s  heart,  and  wept  for  the 
unfortunate  descendant  of  a long  line  of  kings,  noted  for  their 
bravery  and  their  wisdom,  and  in  her  tongue  of  liquid  music,  the 
soft  Castilian,  is  commemorated  the  despair  of  the  Moorish  prince, 
in  the  name  of  the  pinnacle  from  which  he  last  viewed  the  city  of 
his  nativity,  the  proud  home  of  his  ancestors:  El  Ultimo  Sospiro 
del  Moro.  (“The  last  sigh  of  the  Moor”  ) Weeping  for  the  lovely 
gardens  and  palaces  which  he  had  lost,  and  for  the  proud  empire 
that  had  departed  from  his  race  forever,  his  fierce  lieutenant  scorn- 
fully exclaimed:  “Aye,  weep  like  a woman  for  what  you  could  not 
defend  like  a man;”  but  his  noble  enemy,  Isabella,  wept  with  him  in 
his  sorrow. 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


But  in  all  the  pages  of  history,  or  legends  of  the  misty  past,  no 
truer  heroines  appear  than  the  obscure  but  glorious  actors  in  our 
border  tragedies.  Not  the  patriotic  Charlotte  Corday,  the  inspired 
Joan  of  Arc,  nor  the  unselfish  Maid  of  Saragossa,  displayed  more 
of  courageous  conduct  or  patriotic  love  of  country  than  did  these 
heroines  in  homespun.  Though  homely  their  lives,  and  familiar  with 
peril  rather  than  pleasure,  yet  their  souls  were  noble,  their  hearts 
steadfast,  and  their  actions  irreproachable.  Themselves  the  daugh- 
ters of  heroes,  they  perpetuated  a race  of  courageous  men  and  true 
women.  Unlettered,  and  untaught  in  frivolous  accomplishments, 
they  may  have  been,  but  truly  feminine  they  were  for  all  that. 

Small  need  was  there  of  the  piano  upon  the  savage  border,  where 
the  shrill  yell  of  the  Indian  made  its  discordant  music,  and  the  moan 
of  the  wounded  and  the  wail  of  the  widowed  composed  a funeral 
dirge.  Here  was  the  place  for  women,  who,  instead  of  fainting  at 
the  sight  of  blood,  could  act  the  leech  when  the  need  came,  and 
bind  up  the  wounds  of  husband,  father  or  lover.  Here  was  the 
field  where,  instead  of  shuddering  at  the  rifle’s  sound,  a woman’s 
hand  should  deftly  load,  and  if  the  worst  came,  she  should  be  able 
to  surely  aim  and  fire  the  unerring  weapon  of  the  border.  The  life 
of  the  pioneer  woman  was  hard,  and  its  scope  was  narrow,  but  that 
scope  was  filled  to  its  utmost  bound  with  the  nobility  of  duty  and 
bravery.  Here  was  no  timid  shrinking  from  a harmless  mouse,  no 
fainting  at  a tiny  spider,  no  real  or  pretended  fright  at  the  attack 
of  a flock  of  geese,  but  an  eye  that  gazed  unquailing  on  danger,  and 
a heroic  courage  that  did  not  falter  at  the  thought  of  death. 

How  truly  the  border  heroine  played  her  part  in  the  awful  drama 
of  the  early  settlement  of  the  West,  only  those  who  have  closely 
scanned  that  page  of  our  history  really  know.  How  uncomplain- 
ingly she  endured  hardships,  that  upon  her  tenderer  nature  bore  more 
severely  than  upon  that  of  her  hardier  companion,  is  known  to  all 
the  world.  How  bravely  she  suffered  the  pains  and  horrors  of  cap- 
tivity, and  how  nobly  she  submitted  to  the  decrees  of  a Providence, 
that  often,  in  a single  night,  made  her  homeless,  husbandless  and 
childless,  has  been  told  in  legend  and  in  song. 

But  now  that  the  new  is  pushing  out  the  old,  and  the  lore  of  the 
trapper  and  the  hunter,  and  the  song  and  the  story  of  the  pioneer, 
linger  no  more  in  the  ears  that  have  heard  so  much  that  is  later,  and 


HEROIC  WOMEN. 


257 


their  histories  are  seldom  read  by  eyes  that  have  seen  so  much  that 
is  wonderful,  let  us  again  take  up  these  idyls  of  the  wood,  these 


THE  MODERN  BELLE ANTIPODE  OF  THE  BORDER  HEROINE. 

tragedies  of  the  valleys  and  the  forests,  that  should  be  kept  forever 
fresh  in  the  memories  of  Americans. 


258 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Civilization,  now  pressing  from  the  West  as  well  as  from  the  East, 
will  soon  have  obliterated  the  border ; and  its  tales  and  its  dramas  will, 
unless  carefully  preserved,  soon  have  vanished  from  all  record. 
Standing,  as  we  do,  at  the  threshold  from  which  one  era  departs,  as 
another  enters,  let  us  do  our  duty  in  endeavoring  to  fix  upon  the 
impartial  pages  of  history  these  deeds  while  yet  they  are  fresh  in 
the  minds  of  some  of  the  actors  upon  those  eventful  fields.  But  a 
very  few  years  at  the  farthest,  and 

“Earth  loses  their  pattern  forever  and  aye 

but  a short  time,  and  every  actor  and  spectator  who  occupied  the 
stage  of  that  grand  time,  the  era  of  the  pioneers,  will  have  passed 
into  the  Silent  Land. 

Even  now  but  few  of  these  old  veterans  “lag  superfluous  on  the 
stage,”  and  in  a short  time  all  who  have  even  seen  the  oldest  of  the 
pioneers,  will  have  left  the  ranks  of  “shadow-casting  men.”  The 
youngest  men  alive  to-day,  who  talked  with  Boone,  are  over  seventy 
years  old;  those  who  held  converse  with  Kenton,  over  sixty.  Of  the 
pioneers  themselves,  heroes  of  the  plains  and  of  the  mountains,  very 
few,  if  any,  still  live. 

Let  us,  therefore,  while  at  least  the  oral  traditions  of  their  exploits 
survive,  fix  them  forever  by  ‘ ‘the  art  preservative  of  arts ; ’ ’ and  while 
we  strive  to  preserve  a picture  of  the  daring  of  western  heroes,  let  us 
not  forget  that  of  the  noble  western  heroines  who,  in  a two-fold  mea- 
sure, deserve  our  admiration  and  applause. 

MRS.  PARKER. 

In  1812  there  lived  on  the  Illinois  Kiver,  some  two  hundred  miles 
above  its  mouth,  a hardy  old  pioneer,  commonly  known  as  “Old 
Parker,  the  Squatter.”  The  family  of  the  old  borderer  consisted 
of  a wife,  two  boys — one  aged  nineteen,  the  other  fourteen — and  a 
daughter,  seventeen  years  old.  As  their  only  dependence  for  meat 
was  upon  the  game  procured,  Parker  and  his  oldest  son  were  often 
gone  for  days  at  a time  on  hunting  expeditions,  the  Illinois  Indians 
at  that  period  being  all  peaceable. 

At  the  time  of  which  we  write,  he  and  his  oldest  son  had  been 
gone  three  days  in  company  with  some  Indians  regarded  as  friendly. 
On  this  day,  (the  third  after  their  departure),  one  of  the  Indians 
returned,  entered  the  cabin,  and  sitting  down  began  to  smoke.  This 


HEROIC  WOMEN. 


259 


was  not  regarded  as  any  thing  ominous,  they  supposing  the  savage 
had  been  discouraged  by  something  which  his  superstition  caused  him 
to  regard  as  an  ill  omen,  and  had  turned  back  from  the  hunt. 

After  remaining  silent  for  some  time,  the  Indian  at  last  spoke. 
“Ugh  !”  said  he,  “Old  Parker  die.”  The  family  were  now  terribly 
excited,  and  Mrs.  Parker  hurriedly  asked  what  was  the  matter  with, 
her  husband.  To  this  the  Indian  answered:  “Parker  sick,  tree  fell 
on  him — Parker  die — You  go  see.”  To  questions  as  to  where  her 
husband  was,  and  whether  he  had  sent  for  her,  the  Indian  gave  con- 
tradictory replies,  that  excited  the  suspicions  of  the  woman,  but  she 
determined  to  send  the  remaining  boy  along  with  the  savage  to  see 
if  there  was  any  truth  in  his  report.  Neither  Indian  nor  boy  return- 
ing that  night,  nor  the  next  day,  the  suspicions  of  the  woman  were 
confirmed,  and  she  determined  to  keep  strict  watch. 

Accordingly,  she  secured  the  door  with  the  strongest  fastenings 
she  could  devise,  and  awaited  the  attack  she  felt  sure  would  come. 
For  arms  they  had  the  rifle  of  the  youngest  boy  and  an  axe.  Scarcely 
had  the  darkness  of  the  night  descended,  when  steps  were  heard 
approaching  the  cabin,  and  after  knocking  at  the  door,  some  one 
called  out:  “Mother — mother.”  The  daughter  started  to  unfasten 
the  door,  but  holding  her  back,  the  mother,  who  fancied  she  detected 
an  Indian  accent  in  the  voice,  said:  “Jake,  where  are  the  Indians?” 
“Um  gone,”  was  the  confident  reply  of  the  savage. 

Mrs.  Parker,  now  fully  satisfied  that  her  husband  and  sons  had 
been  foully  murdered,  was  seized  with  an  idea,  that,  if  well  carried 
out,  would  lessen  the  number  of  the  traitors  by  one  at  least.  “Put 
your  ear  to  the  key-hole,  Jake,  I’ve  something  I want  to  tell  you, 
and  don’t  want  anyone  to  hear — the  Indians  may  be  skulking 
around.”  She  had  already  cocked  her  boy’s  rifle,  and  when  the 
head  was  laid  against  the  door,  she  sent  a bullet  through  it  and 
lightly  stepped  to  one  side.  The  Indian  fell  dead,  but  his  two  com- 
rades fired  hastily  through  the  door,  and  nothing  but  the  prudent 
forethought  of  the  woman,  in  stepping  aside,  saved  her  life. 

Turning  now  to  her  daughter,  she  told  her  that  one  of  the  savages 
was  dead,  and  that  if  they  could  kill  another,  the  third  one  would 
fly.  “I  will  load  the  rifle  again,  and  when  they  break  in  the  door, 
which  they  will  do,  if  they  hear  no  noise,  I will  fire  on  them,  and  if 
I shouldn’t  kill  one,  you  must  use  your  axe.”  The  daughter 
promised  that  she  would  not  fail,  and  just  then  the  Indians  again 


260 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


fired  through  the  door.  Not  a movement  inside.  The  Indians 
again  reloaded,  and  fired  two  more  shots,  without  hearing  a sound. 

Fully  convinced  that  their  random  shots  had  killed  the  women, 
and  eager  for  scalps  and  plunder,  they  obtained  a heavy  log,  and 
after  a few  unsuccessful  attempts,  at  last  succeeded  in  breaking 


down  the  door.  Dropping  their  battering-ram,  they  sprang  into  the 
breach,  when  the  unerring  aim  of  the  heroic  woman  stretched 
another  one  dead  upon  the  threshold.  The  third  Indian,  now  thor- 
oughly terrified,  fired  his  gun  at  the  women  without  effect,  and 
turning  quickly  fled  into  the  night. 


HEROIC  WOMEN. 


261 


“We  must  leave,  before  he  can  raise  others  to  aid  him,”  said 
the  older  woman,  and  deserting  their  cabin,  they  entered  a canoe, 
carrying  the  faithful  rifle  and  the  axe.  For  six  days  they  drifted 
down  the  current  of  the  river,  and  at  last  reached  the  French  set- 
tlement of  St.  Louis,  having  in  all  that  time  had  no  other  food  than 
one  duck  and  two  blackbirds.  These  were  eaten  raw,  as  they  had 
no  way  of  making  a fire. 

A party  of  men  started  out  from  St.  Louis  to  search  for  “Old 
Parker”  and  his  sons,  but  no  trace  of  them  could  be  found,  and 
indeed,  they  were  never  again  heard  of. 

Here  we  mention  an  earlier  incident.  Mrs.  Parker,  when  a 
young  girl,  was  captured  in  a manner  very  similar  to  that  of 
the  Boone  and  Callaway  girls.  She,  with  a Miss  Harbison  and 
Miss  Berry — neither  of  them  over  sixteen  years  old — was  out 
riding  in  a small  skiff,  and  as  there  had  been  no  alarm  of  Indians 
for  some  months,  they  did  not  anticipate  any  danger.  On  the 
opposite  side  of  the  stream,  however,  as  they  sat  idly  rocking 
in  the  boat,  its  single  oar  fell  into  the  water,  and  before  they  could 
recover  it  or  push  the  boat  from  the  bank,  they  were  seized  by  a 
couple  of  savages,  lying  concealed  behind  some  large  trees. 

They  were  hurried  as  fast  as  possible  toward  the  Indian  villages, 
but  one  of  the  savages  had  taken  a violent  fancy  to  Miss  Harbison, 
and  our  heroine  advised  her  to  make  every  use  of  it  to  delay  the 
flight.  At  every  opportunity  she  herself  would  break  off  twigs  to 
indicate  the  trail,  and  in  this  way  the  pursuers — amongst  whom  was 
Miss  Harbison’ s lover — were  enabled  to  follow  so  swiftly  that  on 
the  morning  of  the  second  day  they  were  rescued,  and  their  captors 
killed. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


BETTY  ZANE. 


THE  SIEGE  OF  WHEELING BRITISH  AND  INDIANS THE  INFAMOUS  GIRTT 

SURROUNDED PROMISES  AND  THREATS CAPTAIN  BOGGS  GOES  FOR 

REINFORCEMENTS GIRTY’S  PARLEY HIS  LIES A DESTRUCTIVE  CAN- 

NON  A FIERCE  SIEGE NOBLE  CONDUCT  OF  THE  WOMEN INDIAN 

ARTILLERY ITS  TRIAL A DISASTROUS  DISCHARGE OUT  OF  POWDER 

A SCHOOL-GIRL  HEROINE HER  BRAVE  DEED THE  FLIGHT  OF 

ATALANTA ESCAPES  UNHURT THE  SIEGE  RAISED FLIGHT  OF  THE 

INDIANS MRS.  CRUGER’S  STATEMENT WHAT  IT  PROVES WHO  MRS. 

CRUGER  WAS PRESENT  AT  THIS  SIEGE. 


The  feat  we  are  about  to  narrate  has  been  attributed  to  two,  if 
not  more,  of  the  pioneer  heroines,  and  while  this  has  caused  a great 
confusion  amongst  the  chroniclers,  yet  it  seems  to  us  easy  of  expla- 
nation, for  the  fact  doubtless  is,  that  several  similar  exploits  really 
happened,  though  but  a single  one  of  them  may  have  been  recorded. 
In  this  way  each  one  who  knew  of  the  performance  of  such  a deed, 
supposed  it  was  a mistake  to  attribute  it  to  any  except  the  heroine 
of  his  particular  acquaintance. 

On  the  11th  day  of  September,  1782,  a party  of  British,  num- 
bering fifty  and  known  as  the  “Queen’s  Rangers,”  under  a Captain 
Pratt,  and  three  hundred  Indians,  under  the  leadership  of  their 
various  chiefs,  laid  siege  to  Fort  Henry,  as  Wheeling,  Virginia,  was 
then  called.  The  whole  body  of  Indians  and  British  was  under  the 
command  of  the  infamous  Simon  Girty.  The  leader  has  by  others 
been  said  to  have  been  George  Girty. 

Encircling  the  fort,  a demand  was  made  for  its  surrender;  the 
usual  promise  of  good  treatment  being  given,  in  case  of  submission, 
and  threats  of  a savage  massacre,  if  the  fort  had  to  be  taken  by 
storm.  To  these  promises  and  threats,  the  garrison  replied  with 
taunts  and  jeers,  somewhat  similar  to  those  of  young  Reynolds  on 
another  occasion.  Girty  then  drew  off  his  forces,  and  waited  for 
the  night  before  making  an  attack.  ■> 

Inside  the  fort  were  fully  forty  women  and  children,  but  of  men, 
with  boys  able  to  manage  a rifle,  there  were  only  eighteen;  still  they 

262 


BETTY  ZANE. 


263 


were  not  daunted  by  the  terrible  odds.  Upon  the  approach  of  the 
Indians,  Captain  Boggs,  the*  commander  of  the  fort,  had  ridden  oft 
to  some  of  the  adjacent  posts  to  bring  up  reinforcements,  and  the 
command  had  been  turned  oyer  to  Colonel  Silas  Zane  and  a Mr. 
Sullivan,  the  latter  a man  of  great  experience  in  Indian  warfare, 
and  as  brave  as  a lion. 

The  sun  was  just  sinking,  when  Girty  made  his  second  appearance, 
and  endeavored  to  prevail  on  the  garrison  to  surrender.  “Your 

treatment  shall  be  that  of” Here  he  was  interrupted  by  Mr. 

Sullivan,  with,  “Colonel  William  Crawford.”  And  he  continued: 
“We  know  you  Girty,  for  a dirty  dog,  too  cowardly  to  be  honest, 


BETTY  ZANE,  THE  HEROINE  OF  FORT  HENRY,  NOW  WHEELING. 

and  so  filthy  a beast  that  you  felt  yourself  only  fit  to  live  amongst 
savages.  Your  promises  are  plentiful,  but  you  are  such  a liar  that, 
if  you  tried,  you  couldn’t  tell  the  truth.  If  you  want  us,  you  will 
have  to  do  some  better  fighting  than  you  and  your  sneaking  Indians 
have  ever  yet  done.  We  only  hope  that  you  will  hang  around  our 
walls  until  our  messenger  brings  up  reinforcements,  and  we  will 
exterminate  you.” 

“Yes,  by  G — ! 99  replied  Girty,  “but  I’ve  got  your  messenger 
safe.  He  won’t  bring  up  any  help  for  you.” 


264 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


“Have  you  really?”  asked  Sullivan.  “What  sort  of  a man  was 
he — how  did  he  look  ? ’ ’ 

“Oh,  he’s  a fine,  active  fellow,  young  and  good  looking.” 

“That’s  a d — d lie!”  put  in  Sullivan.  “He  was  an  old,  gray- 
headed man.” 

At  this  Girty  retired,  and  in  a short  time  led  up  his  forces  to  the 
attack.  Thinking  that  they  would  have  but  a short  time  in  which 
to  reduce  the  fort,  the  mixed  troops  of  Girty  fought  with  more  than 
their  usual  courage  and  determination.  A small  cannon,  mounted 
on  one  of  the  block-houses,  made  terrible  havoc  amidst  the  crowded 
masses  of  the  enemy. 

It  seems  that,  at  a former  attack,  the  garrison  had  no  cannon,  and 
in  order  to  terrify  the  assailants  mounted  a dummy  of  wood,  whose 
character  was  soon  discovered.  Thinking  the  present  one  no  more 
dangerous,  the  besiegers  made  sport  of  it,  dared  the  garrison  to  fire 
it,  and  crowded  into  a solid  mass  in  front  of  it.  At  this  moment 
the  match  was  applied;  there  followed  a loud  explosion,  and  a lane 
was  mowed  through  the  howling  and  now  thoroughly  frightened 
savages. 

Girty  next  divided  his  men  into  two  parties,  and  attacked  from 
opposite  sides,  but  the  brave  little  garrison  stubbornly  held  its  own. 
The  women  were  of  great  advantage ; they  gave  way  to  no  panic 
fears;  they  indulged  in  no  hysterical  fainting  spells,  or  screams,  but, 
throughout  the  awful  night — made  hideous  with  the'  shrill  explosions 
of  the  rifles,  the  scream  of  the  bullets,  and  the  fierce  war-whoops  of 
the  Indians — they  stood  to  their  posts  like  the  true  heroines  that  they 
were,  loading,  cleaning  and  cooling  the  rifles,  that  with  the  constant 
firino;  had  become  foul  and  overheated. 

At  last  the  long  night  passed  away,  and  with  the  daylight  the 
Indian  attack  slackened.  A new  idea  had  seized  the  red  men.  At 
the  wharf  lay  a barge  loaded  with  cannon  balls.  These  were  under 
the  charge  of  Mr.  Sullivan,  who  was  taking  them  from  Fort  Pitt  to 
Louisville,  when  he  stopped  at  Wheeling  to  aid  the  little  garrison 
there.  The  savages  determined  to  utilize  these  munitions  of  war, 
and  went  to  work  to  make  a cannon  out  of  which  to  fire  them.  Select- 
ing a large  log,  they  split  it  open,  scooped  out  a bore  in  it  of  the 
proper  size,  and  then,  placing  the  two  pieces  together,  bound  it  with 
ropes,  chains  and  iron  bands. 


BETTY  ZANE. 


265 


When  completed,  it  was  quite  a creditable  affair — for  Indians. 
Would  it  work?  Of  this  its  builders  had  not  the  slightest  doubt, 
and  pouring  in  several  pounds  of  fine  rifle  powder,  they  rammed 
home  several  of  the  balls,  and  aimed  the  quaker  at  the  fort. 
Proud  of  their  invention,  the  Indians  gathered  in  a dense  mass 
around  it,  each  anxious  for  the  honor  of  touching  it  off,  and  all 
expecting  to  see  the  fort  speedily  demolished. 

At  last,  the  match  was  applied,  and  a terrific  explosion  was  the 
result;  pieces  of  chain,  huge  splinters,  and  mangled  Indians  flying 
through  the  air  in  all  directions.  The  garrison,  which  had  been  told 
that  the  siege  guns  had  at  last  arrived,  when  they  saw  the  effect  of 
this  one,  only  wished  Girty’s  army  had  a dozen  such. 

But  to  come  at  once  to  the  exploit  of  our  heroine.  Outside  the 
walls  of  the  fort,  and  distant  from  it  some  sixty  yards,  stood  the 
residence  of  Col.  Zane,  which  had  been  temporarily  abandoned  for 
the  more  secure  protection  of  the  fort.  When  the  powder  in  the 
fort  began  to  be  exhausted,  it  was  remembered  that  there  was  a keg 
of  it  in  the  house  just  mentioned,  and  volunteers  were  called  for 
to  bring  it  into  the  fort.  Several  young  men  promptly  responded, 
when  it  was  announced  that  but  one  would  be  allowed  to  go,  as 
more  could  not  be  spared,  on  account  of  the  weakness  of  the  gar- 
rison. Every  one  saw  that  the  attempt  was  one  of  great  hazard,  but 
they  also  saw  that  whoever  went  must  go  alone,  and  it  was  now  that 
woman’s  courage  came  out  in  bold  relief. 

Miss  Elizabeth  Zane,  sister  of  Col.  Ebenezer  Zane,  stepped  to  the 
front,  and  begged  that  to  her  might  be  assigned  the  perilous  mission. 
For  a time  no  one  would  hear  of  it,  but  cue  young  girl  insisted,  saying 
that  she  knew  just  where  the  powder  was,  that  the  garrison  was  too 
weak  to  lose  even  a single  man,  where  a woman  would  not  be  so 
greatly  missed;  and  besides,  she  added,  she  didn’t  believe  that  the 
Indians  would  expose  themselves  to  take  the  scalp  of  a woman,  at 
such  a time. 

At  last  her  eloquence  prevailed,  and  the  gate  being  opened  the 
young  and  beautiful  girl — who  had  just  completed  her  education  in 
Philadelphia  and  before  whom  life,  with  all  its  pleasures,  was  open- 
ing— bounded  out  into  the  open  space,  and  swift  as  an  Atalanta  sped 
for  the  solitary  house.  The  Indians  did  not  know  what  to  make  of 
it,  and  fearing  some  trap  held  their  fire  until  the  intrepid  girl  began 


26(3 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


her  flight  back  to  the  garrison,  with  the  powder  in  her  arms.  Now 
all  sprang  forward  in  the  race  to  intercept  her,  and  volleys  of  bullets 
were  fired  at  her,  but  without  a scratch  she  again  entered  the  gate 
of  the  fort.  With  the  ammunition  thus  secured,  the  garrison  was 
enabled  to  hold  out  through  the  rest  of  the  day  and  another  long 
night  of  danger,  when  the  enemy  raised  the  siege  and  fled. 

In  some  accounts  it  is  stated  that  Col.  Zane  had  resolved  to  hold  his 
house  against  all  odds,  and  that  it  was  here  that  the  powder  had 
begun  to  run  low,  when  Miss  Bettie  made  the  dangerous  trip  to  the 
fort  to  secure  it.  This  seems  the  most  reasonable,  as  the  frontier 
forts  were  usually  trading  posts  as  well,  and  fully  supplied  with  pow- 
der, lead  and  other  articles  of  barter. 

Mrs.  Cruger  attributes  this  feat  to  Molly  Scotts.  As  Mrs.  Cruger 
was  the  daughter  of  Captain  Boggs,  and  was  in  the  fort  during  the 
entire  siege,  it  would  seem  that  she  ought  to  know  whereof  she 
speaks.  She  says  that,  at  this  time,  Betty  Zane  was  in  or  near 
Washington,  Pennsylvania,  and  at  no  time  during  the  siege  was  at 
or  near  Fort  Henry. 

In  order  to  strengthen  her  statement,  she  makes  oath  to  it.  She 
says  that  she  helped  serve  the  powder  throughout  this  siege,  and  that 
during  a lull  in  the  attack,  a woman  was  observed  to  leave  Col. 
Zane’s  house,  and  make  her  way  to  the  south  gate  of  thefort.  That, . 
being  admitted,  and  her  errand  made  known,  she  (Mrs.  Cruger)  was 
sent  with  her  to  obtain  the  ammunition  needed,  and  poured  the  pow- 
der herself  into  Molly  Scott’s  apron,  and  saw  her  depart  with  it. 

Mrs.  Cruger  (Lydia  Boggs)  says  further,  that  in  the  fort  many  of 
the  women  would  have  done  die  same  thing,  and  that  at  that  time  it 
was  accounted  as  nothing  remarkable.  This  very  statement,  it  seems 
to  us,  furnishes  the  solution  to  the  difficulty,  for  we  can  hardly 
doubt  there  must  have  been  similar  straits  elsewhere,  and  may  safely 
presume  that  the  same  exploit  was  performed  not  by  Miss  Zane 
alone. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


MRS.  PURSLEY. 


OBSCURE  HEROES WANT  OF  OPPORTUNITY SUGGESTIVE  NAMES A 

WOMAN’S  PRISONER A FRONTIER  FORT THE  SALLY AMBUSHED 

FLIGHT  TO  THE  FORT BOLD  THOMAS  HIGGINS A FRONTIER  DARE- 
DEVIL  HIS  DETERMINATION- A WOUNDED  COMRADE A FRIGHTENED 

HORSE THE  RETREAT  COVERED SWARMING  SAVAGES THREE  TO 

ONE BADLY  WOUNDED STRUCK  AGAIN RECEIVES  THREE  MORE 

BULLETS KILLS  ONE  INDIAN DESPERATE  SITUATION HAND-TO- 

HAND  COMBAT COVERED  WITH  WOUNDS A TERRIBLE  TOMAHAWK 

WOUND HIGGINS  DOWN RUSH  OF  THE  TWO  INDIANS A FIERCE 

STRUGGLE BRAINS  ANOTHER  SAVAGE THE  SEARCH  FOR  THE  RIFLE 

THE  KNIFE  COMBAT A DEMI-GOD’S  COURAGE HIGGINS  DOWN 

AGAIN A LOSING  FIGHT APPROACH  OF  SAVAGES MRS.  PURSLEY’S 

PRAYERS HER  HEROIC  ATTEMPT A SHAMED  GARRISON HIGGINS 

SAVED. 


Gray,  in  his  incomparable  Elegy,  intimates  that  often  in  obscure 
stations,  only  the  field  is  wanting  to  cause  a display  of  talents  equal 
to  the  rarest  the  world  has  seen,  and  to  this  dogma  we  are  inclined 
to  give  our  heartiest  assent.  In  our  heroine’s  name  there  is  naught 
of  poetry;  no  such  suggestiveness  of  high  and  mighty  birth,  as  is 
indicated  by  that  of  the  Lady  Clara  Vere  de  Vere,  no  such  intima- 
tion of  nobility  of  soul  as  the  name  of  Joan  of  Arc  calls  up : still,  in 
her  true  woman’s  heart,  there  was  the  grandeur  of  latent  courage, 
and  of  unbounded  sympathy.  The  sketch  of  her  present  exploit  has 
its  prelude  of  savage  warfare,  that  rings  like  the  blare  of  a cavalry 
trumpet,  or  the  long-roll  of  the  alarum  drum. 

It  is  but  fair  to  say  that  this  exploit,  while  her  chief  was  by  no 
means  her  only  one,  as  she  on  one  occasion  captured  the  most  des- 
perate Indian  on  the  border.  Going  from  her  garden  to  her  house 
one  day,  she  saw  a rifle  standing  by  the  door,  and  securing  it,  she 
looked  in,  and  saw  a gigantic  Indian  rummaging  through  her  effects. 
When  he  saw  that  he  was  detected,  he  drew  his  tomahawk  and 
sprang  toward  the  door,  but  the  white  woman  had  already  cocked 
the  rifle,  and  now  presented  it,  telling  him  if  he  moved  she  would 
shoot  him.  So  cowed  was  the  savage  by  her  determined  conduct, 
that  he  made  no  further  attempt  at  escape,  and  was  captured  by 
some  of  the  neighbors,  who  happened  to  come  by. 

267 


268 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


a sally  with  his  entire  force,  certainly  abaci  stroke  of  policy.  After 
proceeding  but  a short  distance  in  the  direction  in  which  the  enemy 
had  been  seen,  they  were  ambushed  by  a considerable  body  of 
Indians,  and  the  lieutenant  and  three  men  killed  and  one  man 
wounded,  at  the  first  volley. 


During  the  war  of  1812,  a fort  was  erected  within  twenty  miles  of 
Vandalia,  as  a frontier  outpost.  Its  garrison  was  insignificant  in 
numbers,  and  was  under  the  command  of  a Lieutenant  Journay.  It 
was  on  the  30th  day  of  August,  1814,  that  skulking  Indians  were 
seen  near  the  post,  and  early  the  next  morning  the  lieutenant  made 


MRS.  PURSLEY. 


One  dare-devil  borderer,  named  Thomas  Higgins,  determined  to 
have  some  revenue  for  his  murdered  comrades,  but  the  other  six 
hastened  into  the  fort  with  all  their  speed.  Higgins’  horse  had 
been  shot,  and  the  scout  at  first  thought  fatally,  but  on  dismount- 
ing he  saw  that  the  wound  was  not  at  all  serious.  Once  on  the 
ground  he  concluded  not  to  mount  again  until  he  had  killed  at  least 
one  of  his  enemies,  and  was  darting  toward  a tree,  when  the  Indians 
started  towards  him. 

He  saw  that  he  could  not  reach  the  tree,  so  he  turned  on  the 
advancing  savages,  and  shot  the  foremost  one  dead.  Hastily  reload- 
ing his  rifle,  he  got  on  his  horse  and  started  to  ride  off,  when  he 
heard  the  voice  of  Burgess,  the  wounded  man.  As  he  turned  around 
on  his  horse,  Burgess  said  to  him: 

“Tom,  you  won’t  leave  me  will  you?  ” 

“No,”  said  the  hero,  “I’ll  not  leave -you — Come  on  ! ” 

“I  can’t  get  to  you,”  said  Burgess,  “My  leg  is  broken.” 

Instantly  dismounting,  Higgins  led  his  horse  to  the  spot,  and 
attempted  to  put  Burgess  in  the  saddle,  but  the  animal  becoming 
frightened,  started  off  toward  the  fort. 

“Now,  that’s  what  I call  mean,”  said  Higgins,  “blamed  mean — 
but  I’ll  save  you  anyway.  You  get  off  the  best  you  can  on  your 
hands  and  your  well  foot.  I’ll  stay  behind  and  cover  your  retreat.” 

Burgess  followed  his  friend’s  advice  and  escaped,  but  the  savages 
now  began  to  crowd  up  on  Higgins,  who  scorned  to  save  himself  at 
the  sacrifice  of  a friend,  and  in  order  to  keep  the  Indians  from  fol- 
lowing up  Burgess,  he  started  off  in  an  oblique  direction,  and  soon 
emerged  from  the  thickets  which,  so  far,  had  protected  him.  Three 
savages  immediately  darted  in  pursuit,  and  Higgins  determined,  if 
possible,  to  get  them  separated,  and  kill  the  three  in  detail. 

On  foot  he  was  very  swift,  and  did  not  doubt  but  that  he  could 
get  the  Indians  strung  out,  but  in  entering  a small  brook  he  discov- 
ered that  in  the  engagement  he  had  been  struck  in  the  leg  by  a bul- 
let, and  that  it  was  giving  out.  Affairs  were  now  at  a crisis,  and 
he  saw  very  slight  chanced  of  escape — none  at  all,  unless  ho  could 
kill  the  largest  of  the  enemy,  who  had  from  the  first  kept  in  the 
lead,  and  was  now  uncomfortably  near  him. 

Every  time  he  turned  to  fire,  the  Indian  sprang  from  side  to  side 
so  rapidly  that  he  could  take  no  aim,  and  not  wishing  to  throw  away 
a shot,  he  halted,  let  the  Indian  aim  at  him,  and  just  as  his  finger 


270 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


pressed  the  trigger,  the  borderer  wheeled,  but  not  in  time  to  escape 
the  bullet.  He  was  struck  in  the  hip,  and  knocked  down,  but 
instantly  arose  again,  and  having  no  chance  to  get  a sight  on  the  big 
Indian,  continued  his  flight. 

The  rifle  of  the  Indian  reloaded,  the  three  pressed  the  pursuit 
energetically.  They  were  fast  gaining  upon  Higgins,  when  he  again 
fell,  and  as  he  arose  the  three  fired  together,  each  ball  striking  him. 
Again  he  fell,  but  with  the  enormous  vitality  of  a grizzly  bear,  he 
again  arose,  when  the  three  savages  throwing  aside  their  guns, 
endeavored  to  close  in  on  him. 

As  they  neared  him,  he  presented  his  gun  first  at  one,  then  at  an 
other,  thus  causing  them  to  fall  back.  At  last,  however,  the  large 
Indian,  evidently  much  the  bravest  of  them,  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  gun  of  the  frontiersman  was  empty,  and  he  pressed  forward 
fearlessly,  when  Higgins  took  a quick  aim  and  killed  him. 

His  situation  was  now  truly  desperate.  Upon  his  person  were 
five  serious  wounds,  in  his  hands  an  empty  gun,  around  him  dozens 
of  the  savages,  while  advancing  upon  him  were  his  two  infuriated  and 
unharmed  foes.  Many  a man  would  have  given  up  in  the  face  of 
such  fearful  odds.  Not  so  Thomas  Higgins. 

He  began  to  load  his  rifle  as  swiftly  as  possible,  but  the  two 
rushed  in  on  him  before  he  could  finish,  and  began  stabbing  him  with 
their  spears.  Luckily  these  were  too  thin  to  penetrate  his  body, 
but  turned  their  points  on  striking  a bone ; still  they  covered  him 
with  painful  wounds,  causing  great  loss  of  blood,  and  thereby  weak- 
ening him  woefully. 

One  of  the  Indians  now  threw  his  tomahawk  at  Higgins  with 
frightful  effect.  Striking  him  upon  the  cheek  it  cut  a furrow 
through  it,  severed  his  ear  and  cut  a long  scar,  clear  to  the  bone, 
terminating  at  the  back  of  the  head,  and  the  force  of  the  blow 
knocked  the  indomitable  scout  down  upon  the  earth.  Down,  but 
not  dead;  he  is  worth  a dozen  dead  men  yet. 

Rushing  upon  him,  they  attempted  to  use  their  knives,  but  he 
fought  them  off  so  fiercely  with  his  unaided  hands  and  feet  that  they 
again  had  recourse  to  their  lances.  Catching  one  of  these,  the 
Indian  tugged  so  hard  to  recover  it,  that  he  raised  the  borderer  to 
his  feet.  To  stoop,  snatch  his  rifle  and  beat  out  the  brains  of  the 
savage  was  the  work  but  of  a moment. 


MRS.  PURSLET. 


271 


Seeing  how  faint  his  foeman  had  become  from  the  effects  of  this 
last  exertion,  the  remaining  Indian  rushed  upon  him,  knife  in 
hand.  Higgins’  blow  upon  the  skull  of  the  other  Indian  had  broken 
his  rifle,  but  he  still  retained  the  barrel  of  it,  and  warding  off  the 
blows  of  the  Indian’s  knife  with  his  left  hand,  he  drew  back  for  a 
stroke  with  his  right.  At  this  the  Indian,  who,  physically,  was  now  a 
match  for  four  such  men  as  the  plucky  Higgins,  began  to  retreat 
from  the  glaring  eyes  of  his  adversary,  whose  noble  courage  death 
alone  could  conquer. 

His  course  was  toward  his  rifle,  and  Higgins  knew  that  if  he  could 
reach  and  load  it,  the  battle  was  over,  and  throwing  aside  his  rifle 
barrel,  he  drew  his  knife  and  rushed  upon  the  Indian.  Meeting 
each  other  in  a fierce  embrace,  they  fought  like  jungle  tigers,  but  the 
strength  of  the  white  man  had  ebbed  away  with  his  blood,  and  he 
was  no  longer  a match  for  the  Indian. 

Dashing  his  foe  upon  the  ground,  the  latter  went  in  search  of  his 
rifle,  but,  with  the  courage  of  a demi-god,  the  white  man  again 
arose  and  sought  for  the  other  rifle,  tottering  along  with  frame 
unstrung,  but  with  a heroic  soul,  from  which  not  all  of  his  wounds 
and  sufferings  could  banish  his  inexhaustible  bravery.  No  hero 
beneath  the  walls  of  Troy,  no  trained  gladiator  within  Rome’s  fatal 
arena  ever  fought  against  greater  odds,  or  with  more  unflagging  cour- 
age. As  he  pants  along  in  search  of  the  rifle  the  main  body  of  the 
savages  appear  in  sight  and  press  eagerly  toward  the  scene  of  the 
combat.  Higgins  sees  them,  but  although  it  is  certain  death  to 
remain,  yet  it  is  no  less  surely  fatal  to  fly,  with  his  armed  foe  upon 
his  trail,  and  his  former  fleetness  now  no  more. 

The  whole  combat  had  been  seen  by' the  garrison,  yet  no  one  ven- 
tured forth  to  aid  their  comrade.  With  womanly  sympathy  and 
generosity,  Mrs.  Pursley  attempted  by  prayers  first,  and  taunts 
afterwards,  to  induce  some  of  the  men  to  go  to  Higgins’  relief, 
and  reminded  them  that  his  present  condition  was  due  to  his 
noble  effort  in  behalf  of  a wounded  comrade,  and  showed  them  how 
any  of  them  might  have  been  wounded,  as  well  as  Burgess. 

Of  no  avail — in  that  fort  there  were  no  Logans,  nor  Kentons. 
Finding  all  entreaty  useless,  and  all  raillery  futile,  Mrs.  Pursley 
declared  that  “never,  Avhile  she  could  ride  a horse  or  aim  a gun, 
should  so  fine  a fellow  as  Tom  Higgins  die  for  want  of  a little  help,” 


272 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


and  seizing  a rifle,  she  mounted  a horse,  and  dashed  out  of  the  gate 
to  where  Higgins  had  fallen  insensible,  bleeding  from  dozens  of 
wounds. 

Shamed  by  her  noble  example,  the  men  mounted  rapidly,  and  at 
a full  gallop  followed  the  heroic  woman.  Reaching  the  gallant 
borderer,  he  was  thrown  across  a horse,  and  all  of  them  made  their 
escape  into  the  fort.  After  lying  as  if  dead  for  days,  Higgins 
began  to  mend,  and  eventually  entirely  recovered.  His  gratitude  to 
Mrs.  Pursley  was  ever  profound. 

Where,  in  the  records  of  heroic  deeds,  is  one  whose  lustre  out- 
shines that  of  this  grand  woman  ? Where  is  the  human  heart  that 
does  not  beat  with  fuller  throbs  of  joy  and  pride  to  know  that,  with 
all  of  its  ills  and  its  imperfections,  with  all  of  its  vanity  and  its 
folly,  humanity  still  links  such  god-like  virtue  to  its  viler  dross? 
Who  now  shall  say  that  woman’s  courage  is  mere  passive  endurance 
of  pain,  the  unflinching  fortitude  under  suffering?  To  all  such,  the 
exploit  of  this  noble  woman  is  sufficient  refutation;  for  one  such 
deed  absolves  the  entire  sex  from  all  derogation,  and  in  the  coming 
years,  should  but  one  such  legend  live,  it  will  suffice  to  show  to  the 
world  that  the  pioneer  heroines  of  the  West  joined  to  the  tender 
sympathy  and  true  femininity  of  their  sex  the  hardier  courage 
and  unflinching  determination  of  the  sterner  one. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


MISS  WASHBURN. 

* 


LOVELY  LANDSCAPES MOUNT  PLEASANT GATHERING-  INDIANS THEIR 

AMUSEMENTS THE  TWO  SPIES THEIR  PERILOUS  POSITION OUT  OF 

WATER M’LELLAN’S  VENTURE TURN  ABOUT WHITE’S  ADVENTURE 

THE  WHITE  SQUAW FORCED  TO  KILL  THE  OTHER THE  FLIGHT 

DISCOVERY  OF  THE  DEAD  BODY THE  PURSUIT SURROUNDED A 

FIERCE  ATTACK THE  MISSING  GIRL THE  UNGUARDED  SPOT THE 

INDIAN  DISCOVERY A LONG  RANGE A BROKEN  FLINT THE  WAR- 
RIOR’S LEAP THE  MYSTERIOUS  SHOT THE  GULF  OF  DEATH 

ANOTHER  ATTEMPT THE  SHOUT  OF  TRIUMPH —DISHEARTENED  SAVAGES 

THE  MYSTERIOUS  MARKSMAN THE  ATTEMPT  AT  ESCAPE A DARING 

GUIDE THROUGH  THE  INDIAN  VILLAGE SAFETY GREAT  HARDSHIPS 

A BRAVE  GIRL 


By  the  cruel  irony  of  Nature,  seemingly  never  thoroughly  in  sym- 
pathy with  humanity,  the  most  idyllic  valleys,  the  most  picturesque 
crags  and  hillsides,  have  been  the  scenes  of  battles  and  massacres  the 
most  terrible.  Landscapes,  whose  ideal  beauty  would  almost  seem 
to  hold  spell-bound  the  gazer,  have  echoed  to  the  horrid  yell  of  the 
savage,  and  have  been  bathed  in  the  blood  of  the  innocent  and  the 
defenseless.  Hardly  a vale  in  all  this  boundless  West  but  has  wit- 
nessed the  fierce  combat,  scarcely  a hill-top  but  has  echoed  to  the 
death  whoop  of  the  red  man. 

Overlooking  a wide  and  lovely  valley,  upon  the  Hockhocking 
River,  towers  the  romantic  peak  of  Mount  Pleasant,  broken  into 
crags  and  chasms,  and  covered  wfith  graceful  trees.  In  1790,  spec- 
tators upon  its  summit  (and  there  were  such),  could  have  seen  a 
lively  picture  of  Indian  life  down  in  the  beautiful  vale  beneath. 
One  of  their  villages  occupied  a portion  of  the  plain,  and  in  Octo- 
ber, of  the  year  we  have  mentioned,  it  was  the  scene  of  unusual 
activity.  Gathering  in  a council,  that  had  for  its  object  the  exter- 
mination of  the  border  settlements,  were  the  warring  bands  of  the 
neighboring  tribes.  Before  setting  out  on  their  deadly  mission,  they 
were  amusing  themselves  with  the  sports  usual  to  their  nation. 
There  were  races  of  horses  and  of  men,  leaping,  throwing  the  toma- 
hawk, and  shooting  at  a mark. 


273 


274 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


Fearing  no  spectators,  they  chanted  aloud  their  songs  of  war 
and  rapine,  gave  vent  to  their  hatred  of  the  whites  in  fierce  yells 
and  pantomimic  gesturings,  and  over  and  over  again  enacted,  in  their 
savage  dances,  their  deeds  of  arson,  outrage,  and  murder.  Day 


INDIAN  SCALP  DANCE. 


after  day  their  numbers  increased,  and  their  revelry  grew  more  wild 
and  hideous  as  the  time  was  rapidly  approaching,  when  they  would 
steal  out  upon  the  hated  whites,  and  plunder,  burn,  and  slay. 


MISS  WASHBUKN. 


275 


Had  they  but  known  it,  their  every  movement  had  its  keen  spec- 
tators, their  every  word  its  eager  listeners.  Upon  the  topmost  crag 
of  the  mountain  lay  White  and  McLellan,  two  of  the  most  daring 
scouts  of  their  day.  An  inkling  of  the  movements  of  the  savages 
had  reached  the  post  above  the  mouth  of  the  Hockhocking,  and  two 
of  its  scouts  had  been  detailed  to  watch  them,  and  give  timely  notice 
of  their  movements.  Provided  with  an  ample  store  of  jerked  beef 
and  corn  bread,, they  lighted  no  fire,  and  in  every  way  avoided  giving 
any  sign  of  their  presence  in  the  vicinity. 

Occasionally  a band  of  the  Indians  would  stroll  up  to  the  moun- 
tain’s top,  to  view  the  prospect,  or  to  indulge  in  secret  counsel.  At 
these  visits  the  scouts  carefully  secreted  themselves  in  caves  or 
thickets,  thoroughly  effacing  every  indication  of  their  trail.  At 
last  the  water,  which  the  rains  had  poured  into  hollows  of  the  rocks, 
gave  out,  and  still  the  Indians  showed  no  signs  of  moving.  They 
could  not  now  avoid  going  in  search  of  water,  and  in  doing  this, 
they  ran  the  risk  of  detection  from  the  constantly  moving  bands  of 
the  savages. 

McLellan  being  the  most  experienced,  determined  to  make  the 
first  exploration,  and  cautiously  descending  the  hillside,  he  skirted 
around  it  toward  the  river,  and  after  making  an  abrupt  turn,  came 
suddenly  upon  a beautiful  spring.  To  a man  who  had  been  drinking 
the  stagnant  water  of  the  hill-top,  this  clear  fountain,  now  known 
as  Cold  Spring,  was  a treat  indeed.  Drinking  his  fill,  McLellan 
carried  off  two  canteens  of  the  crystal  fluid,  and  soon  regained  his 
eyrie.  After  this  the  scouts  took  turn  about  at  this  perilous  duty, 
and  on  one  of  these  occasions  White  had  filled  his  canteens,  but 
lingered,  loath  to  leave  the  spring.  While  sitting  there,  his  eyes 
fixed  on  the  sparkling  water,  he  heard  a sound,  and  looking  up, 
beheld  two  squaws  just  turning  the  abrupt  break  in  the  hill.  Thej 
saw  him  at  the  same  time,  and  the  elder  at  once  gave  vent  to  the 
alarm  whoop  of  the  Indians. 

Reflecting  that  he  must  silence  this  clamor,  or  he  and  his  comrade 
perish,  he  sprang  at  once  upon  the  two  squaws,  and  being  a man  of 
unusual  strength  and  activity,  he  soon  had  them  in  the  little  brook, 
that  led  from  the  spring  out  into  the  river.  Here  he  endeavored  to 
drown  them  both  at  one  time,  but  the  younger  struggled  violently, 
and  at  last  managed  to  gasp  out  a few  words  of  English. 


276 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Eeleasing  her  at  once,  he  soon  succeeded  in  smothering  the  older 
woman,  and  allowing  her  body  to  float  on  down  the  stream,  he  has- 
tily made  his  way  back  to  his  comrade,  accompanied  by  the  white 
girl,  who  had  been  a captive  amongst  the  Indians.  Long  before 
they  reached  their  hiding  place,  they  heard  a terrific  whooping, 
some  hundreds  of  yards  down  the  river,  and  they  knew  that  the 
Indians  had  discovered  the  body  of  the  old  squaw. 

McLellan,  from  his  look-out,  saw  the  Indians  in  the  plain  below 
scatter  off  in  all  directions,  some  twenty  of  them  making  their  way 
up  the  steep  sides  of  the  mountain.  The  borderers,  on  their  isolated 
pinnacle,  now  thought  but  how  to  sell  their  lives  as  dearly  as  possi- 
ble, and  advised  the  girl  to  return  to  the  savages,  and  say  that  she 
bad  been  taken  prisoner  by  the  scouts.  They  told  her,  that  if  she 
would  do  this  at  once,  and  truly  state  their  number,  the  Indians 
would  not  harm  her,  but  that  if  she  remained,  it  would  only  be  to 
die,  as  they  saw  no  possibility  of  escape. 

They  did  not  know  the  metal  of  which  the  girl  was  made.  With 
a clear  eye  and  an  unwavering  voice,  she  announced  her  determina- 
tioh  to  remain  at  all  hazards.  She  might  be  of  some  service  to  them, 
and  as  for  death,  she  did  not  fear  it,  and  would  prefer  to  die  with 
her  own  people,  rather  than  live  with  the  savages.  If  either  of  them 
did  escape,  and  she  was  killed,  all  that  she  would  ask  was  to  have 
her  relatives  notified  of  her  fate.  “If,”  she  added,  “either  of  you 
should  be  disabled,  I can  use  a rifle,  and  I will  assist  you  in  making 
the  sacrifice  of  our  lives  cost  the  Indians  as  dearly  as  possible.” 
Seeing  that  remonstrance  availed  nothing,  the  scouts  prepared  for 
the  combat,  and  soon  the  savages  were  seen  stealing  from  tree  to  tree 
and  from  cover  the  cover,  until  in  a short  time  they  were  completely 
surrounded. 

There  were  but  two  ways  of  approach  to  the  position  of  the 
whites;  one  along  a narrow  back-bone  of  the  hill;  the  other  an 
isolated  spur,  to  be  reached  only  by  a leap  across  a deep  chasm. 
The  distance  across  was  only  about  twelve  feet,  a mere  nothing  to 
the  agile  red  man,  but  a fall  or  a mis-step  would  precipitate  the 
leaper  down  into  the  chasm,  fully  two  hundred  feet.  The  point 
once  gained,  the  scouts  were  doomed  to  certain  death,  as  they  had 
no  shelter  against  a shot  from  that  direction. 

Hoping  that  this  “coign  of  vantage”  might  escape  the  keen  obser- 
vation of  the  Indians,  White  and  McLellan  now  turned  their  atten- 
tention  to  the  forest,  where  the  foemen  were  stealing  rapidly  nearer. 


MISS  WASHBURN 


277 


Some  of  these  were  incautious  enough  to  expose  a portion  of  their 
persons,  and  went  down  before  the  infallible  aim  of  the  white  men; 
one  of  the  dying  warriors  rolling  in  his  death  agony  just  below  them, 
and  lodging  in  a heavy  thicket.  The  girl  had  disappeared,  but  to  this 
circumstance  they  had  no  time  to  pay  attention,  nor  to  the  dead 
Indian  almost  in  reach  of  them,  and  whose  rifle  would  have  been  a 
great  prize  to  them. 

Several  of  the  savages  had  fallen,  but  neither  of  the  white  men 
had  yet  been  touched,  when  McLellan  saw  two  or  three  of  the 
Indians  stealing  toward  the  point,  which,  once  gained,  was  equiva- 
lent to  the  death  of  the  brave  scouts.  If  they  but  had  a single 
companion  to  guard  the  fatal  spot — but  pshaw  ! repinings  are  use- 
less— they  will  fight  while  they  may,  and  die  when  they  must.  At 
last  they  saw  one  of  the  Indians  reach  the  edge  of  the  ravine,  and 
prepare  for  the  leap.  From  where  they  lay  it  was  a long  shot,  one 
hundred  yards  if  it  was  an  inch,  and  in  that  day  they  had  no  Sharps 
nor  Winchesters,  but  McLellan  determined  to  try  it.  Raising  his 
rifle,  he  aimed  with  an  extra  degree  of  caution,  and  touched  the 
delicate  trigger. 

Just  at  the  moment  of  contact  the  flint  snapped  into  a thousand 
pieces,  but  the  rifle  did  not  even  flash  in  the  pan;  not  a spark  of  fire 
having  been  generated.  At  the  most  critical  time  his  gun  had  failed 
him,  but  with  as  great  coolness  as  if  nothing  unusual  had  happened, 
he  selected  another  flint  and  carefully  adjusted  it.  He  did  not  even 
hope  that  he  could  be  ready  in  time  to  prevent  the  leap  of  this  sav- 
age, but  he  must  be  ready  to  kill. 

As  he  had  surmised,  before  he  had  secured  the  flint,  the  Indian 
gathered  himself  up  for  the  spring,  but  just  as  he  launched  himself 
into  the  air,  there  came  a sharp,  whip-like  report,  and  turning 
over  and  over  in  its  rapid  descent,  the  body  of  the  Indian  fell  into 
the  deep  gulf  below.  The  wail  of  the  savages  ascended,  and  their 
grief  was  certainly  no  greater  than  the  surprise  of  the  two  comrades. 

Here  was  aid  from  a hand  of  which  they  knew  nothing.  The  lull 
after  the  death  of  the  first  leaper,  they  knew  would  be  of  short 
duration,  and  soon  again  a swarthy  frame  steals  along  toward  the 
bank  of  the  jagged  chasm.  Determined  to  give  the  unseen  marks- 
man no  time  to  take  a deliberate  aim,  he  gained  the  edge  in  two 
bounds,  and  with  the  third  sprang  for  the  other  side. 


278  CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

Just  as  the  scouts  as  well  as  the  Indians,  were  thinking  that  this 
one  had  succeeded,  a report  again  rang  out,  and  the  ball  striking  the 


MISS  WASHBURN’S  SHOT. 

savage  while  in  mid  air,  he  reached  the  desired  spot,  but  only  to 
rebound  from  it  into  the  chasm  a corpse.  The  scouts  could  not 


MISS  WASHBURN. 


279 


resist  a shout  of  triumph,  but  no  answer  came  from  the  mysterious 
marksman.  After  this  second  sacrifice,  the  disheartened  red  men 
drew  off  their  forces  down  the  mountain  to  a safe  distance,  and 
determined  to  await  the  next  day,  before  renewing  the  attack. 

The  sun  was  just  sinking  in  a glorious  blaze  of  golden  light,  and 
the  lovely  October  twilight  wrapped  the  hill  and  the  valley  in  a robe 
of  beauty,  when  the  cessation  of  hostilities  first  gave  the  scouts  a 
chance  to  think  of  the  captive  girl.  After  a few  words  upon  the 
subject,  they  came  to  the  conclusion  that  she  had  become  frightened 
at  the  dreadful  prospect,  and  stealing  off,  had  returned  to  the  Indian 
camp. 

In  a few  moments,  however,  they  beheld  the  slight  form  of  the 
girl  approaching,  rifle  in  hand,  from  the  direction  of  the  solitary 
rock,  and  from  her  they  learned  the  history  of  the  mysterious  shots. 
When  she  was  certain  that  the  warrior  who  fell  early  in  the  action 
and  rolled  between  the  two  fires  was  dead,  she  skirted  down  a small 
ravine,  and  cautiously  approaching  the  thicket,  secured  his  rifle  and 
ammunition.  While  there  she  heard  some  of  the  Indians  call  out  to 
others  to  gain  the  point  spoken  of,  and  hence  she  had  determined,  if 
possible,  to  be  ahead  of  them,  and  defeat  their  object. 

Graining  a favorable  point,  she  had  shot  down  the  two  warriors, 
who  had  attempted  the  daring  leap.  In  the  second  one  who  fell 
beneath  her  aim,  she  recognized  High  Bear,  a Shawnee  brave,  who 
ten  years  before  had  killed  and  scalped  all  of  her  family,  except  her 
brother,  Eli  Washburn,  a famous  scout,  and  who  had  taken  her  a 
captive.  In  that  shot  she  had  wreaked  a desired  vengeance,  as  well 
as  defeated  the  deep  laid  plans  of  the  red  men. 

When  it  became  thoroughly  dark,  the  scouts  determined  to 
attempt  a retreat,  though  they  knew  that  their  risks  would  be  greatly 
increased  by  the  heavy  clouds,  which  had  now  rendered  the  sky  of 
inky  blackness.  To  the  girl  every  locality  was  familiar,  and  it  was 
determined  to  let  her  lead  the  way.  This  proved  a lucky  arrange- 
ment, for  they  had  scarcely  gone  a hundred  yards  down  the  hillside, 
when,  at  a low  hush  from  the  girl,  they  sank  down  and  waited  in 
silence  for  her  return.  After  an  absence  of  a quarter  of  an  hour, 
she  came  back  and  told  them  she  had  succeeded  in  removing  two  sen- 
tinels  from  the  path.  They  continued  their  way  in  silence,  until 
suddenly,  right  at  their  feet,  they  heard  the  barking  of  an  Indian 
dog.  __ 


280 


Conquering  the  wilderness. 


Not  knowing  what  to  expect  next,  they  hastily  cocked  their  rifles, 
at  which  the  girl  touched  them,  warned  them  to  be  quiet,  and  told 
them  they  were  in  the  midst  of  the  Indian  village.  Only  a few  yards 
further  on,  an  Indian  woman  protruded  her  head  from  a lodge  door 
and  spoke  to  the  girl.  Answering  her  in  her  own  language,  the  girl 
did  not  stop.  Hastening  along  in  this  manner  for  some  time  longer, 
the  girl  touched  them,  and  whispered  that  they  had  now  passed 
through  the  village,  and  were  safe. 

With  a sagacity  only  equaled  by  her  heroic  courage,  the  girl  had 
determined  to  make  her  way  through  the  village,  knowing  that  every 
other  avenue  of  escape  would  be  most  rigidly  guarded.  Her  judg- 
ment proved  correct,  and  after  several  days  of  hard  marching  the  party 
reached  their  post  in  safety,  having  suffered  many  hardships  on  the 
way. 

The  Indians,  fearing  that  their  plans  had  all  been  discovered,  gave 
over  their  attack  on  the  settlement,  and  thus  the  bravery  of  a deli- 
cate girl  had  proved  of  signal  benefit ; not  only  saving  the  lives  of 
the  two  scouts,  but  preventing  an  Indian  raid,  and  all  of  its  atten- 
dant horrors.  All  honor  to  this  border  heroine,  whose  frail  body 
contained  a spirit  as  brave,  and  a soul  as  noble,  as  that  of  Saladin  or 
Coeur  de  Leon. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


MRS.  DAVIESS  AND  MRS.  PORTER. 


BIRTH-PLACE  OF  MRS.  DAVIESS REMOVES  TO  KENTUCKY THE  EARLY  BIRD 

A RAPID  FLIGHT FRIENDS  TO  THE  RESCUE A COVERED  TRAIL 

THE  WOUNDED  DOG THE  ENEMY  IN  SIGHT CONDUCT  OF  THE 

SAVAGES A BOY  SCALPED THE  REST  UNHARMED A WOMAN’S  WIT 

A LONG  DRESS FORETHOUGHT  OF  A MOTHER HER  INTENTIONS 

FATE  OF  THE  SCALPED  BOY TERRIBLY  DISFIGURED DEATH  OF 

YOUNG  DAVIESS ANOTHER  INCIDENT THE  DESPERADO HIS  CAPTURE 

THE  SKULKING  INDIAN MRS.  DAVIESS  SAVES  HER  HUSBAND’S  LIFE 

MRS.  PORTER PONTIAC’S  WAR A PENNSYLVANIA  HEROINE THE 

ABSENT  HUSBAND INDIANS  IN  SIGHT SWORD  AND  RIFLE THE 

SABRE’S  STROKE TWO  INDIANS  KILLED THE  THIRD  SHOT REACHES 

HER  HUSBAND RIFLED  AND  BURNED THE  INDIANS  REMAINS A 

WOMAN’S  BRAVERY. 


The  name  of  Daviess  is  one  of  historical  significance  in  the  annals 
of  Kentucky;  the  women  who  bore  it,  as  well  as  the  men,  being  pos- 
sessed of  unusual  courage  and  determination.  The  subject  of  the 
present  sketch,  as  well  as  her  husband,  Samuel  Daviess,  was  born 
in  Bedford  County,  Virginia,  and  removed  to  Whitley’s  Station, 
in  Lincoln  County,  Kentucky,  in  the  fall  of  1779.  Concluding,  after 
some  months  residence  in  the  fort,  that  there  was  no  danger  to  be 
apprehended  from  the  Indians,  they  moved  to  Gilmore’s  Lick, 
about  six  miles  distant,  and  opened  up  a farm  there,  building  a com- 
fortable log  cabin. 

Everything  went  well  until  August,  1782,  when,  stepping  out  of 
the  door  one  morning,  Mr.  Daviess  walked  off  a few  steps,  and  then 
turned  back  to  reenter  his  house.  As  he  turned,  an  Indian  appeared 
between  him  and  the  door.  Starting  to  run  around  the  house,  hop- 
ing by  that  means,,  to  draw  the  Indian  after  him,  when  he  would 
have  a chance  to  dart  into  the  door,  he  partially  succeeded,  but,  on 
looking  inside,  he  saw  that  the  house  was  now  filled  with  savages. 

He  realized  that,  unarmed  as  he  was,  he  could  render  no  assis- 
tance to  his  family,  and  throwing  his  pursuer  off  of  his  trail,  by  dodg- 
ing about  in  a corn-field,  he  darted  off  rapidly  to  the  nearest  station, 
that  of  his  brother,  James  Daviess.  Before  reaching  the  station,  he 
was  observed,  and  his  condition  denoted  that  he  was  in  trouble. 

281 


282 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


When  he  arrived,  the  five  men,  who  were  at  the  station,  were  ready 
armed,  and  they  hastily  turned  back  in  the  direction  of  his  house. 
Here  everything  was  in  confusion,  all  of  the  family  gone,  but  no 
signs  of  any  of  them  having  been  murdered. 

The  savages  had  taken  such  precautions,  that  they  had  left  no 
trail,  but  with  the  instinct  of  the  frontiersman,  the  party  divined 
the  course  that  would  be  pursued,  and  after  a quick  and  fatiguing 
march  of  some  miles,  they  heard  the  baying  of  a hound,  which  Daviess 
recognized  as  one  of  his.  This  dog  had  persistently  followed  the 
family,  and  the  Indians,  after  vainly  trying  to  beat  him  off,  had 
fired  at  and  wounded  him. 

They  were  now  certain  that  they  were  on  the  trail,  and  they  rushed 
forward  at  their  utmost  speed.  After  keeping  up  this  gait  for  a 
short  time,  they  came  across  two  savages,  the  rear  guard  of  the 
party,  and  drove  them  rapidly  in  upon  their  companions.  In  order 
to  save  the  prisoners,  the  rescuing  party  redoubled  their  speed,  and 
did  not  arrive  a moment  too  soon.  A quick  volley  scattered  the 
Indians,  but  at  the  first  alarm  one  of  them  had  knocked  the  oldest 
of  the  Daviess  boys  down,  and  scalped  him. 

The  other  children  scattered  into  the  thick  brush,  and  Mrs. 
Daviess  saved  herself  and  infant  by  jumping  into  a sink-hole.  The 
oldest  boy  was  thought  to  be  dead,  but  soon  revived,  and  rising  to 
his  feet,  his  first  words  were:  “Curse  that  Indian,  he  has  got  my 
scalp  ! ’ 9 

The  conduct  of  the  savages  was  learned  from  Mrs.  Daviess.  When 
they  entered  the  house,  in  a few  seconds  after  her  husband  had  left 
it,  they  were  four  in  number,  but  were  afterward  joined  by  the  one, 
who  had  gone  in  pursuit  of  her  husband.  She  was  confident  that 
they  had  been  lying  near  the  door  for  some  time,  expecting  to  rush 
in  as  soon  as  it  was  opened.  Once  inside,  they  made  motions  for 
her  to  get  up  and  dress  herself.  She  occupied  all  the  time  she  could 
in  this  operation,  and  hoping  to  amuse  the  savages,  so  as  to  detain 
them  as  long  as  possible,  began  showing  them  various  articles  of 
clothing ; succeeding  in  keeping  them  thus  engaged  for  more  than 
two  hours. 

The  savages  were  in  no  great  hurry  to  depart,  as  in  answer  to  a 
question  of  theirs,  she  told  them  that  the  nearest  house  was  eight 
miles  off.  At  last  they  ordered  all  of  the  family  out  of  the  house, 
rifled  it,  and  set  off  through  the  woods,_|orbidding  the  children, 


MRS.  DAVIESS  AND  MRS.  DORTER. 


283 


on  pain  of  death,  to  break  a twig  or  limb,  fearing  that  it  might 
betray  their  course.  An  Indian  cut  off  some  inches  from  the  length 
of  Mrs.  Daviess’  dress-skirt,  for  fear  its  dragging  on  the  ground 
might  have  the  same  effect. 

The  smaller  children  becoming  very  weary,  the  mother  made  the 
larger  ones  take  them  up  and  carry  them,  knowing  the  Indian  habit 
of  murdering  such  prisoners  as  were  unable  to  keep  up.  In  speak- 
ing of  what  she  would  have  done,  had  she  not  been  rescued  that 
day,  Mrs.  Daviess  said  she  intended  to  wait  until  the  savages  were 
asleep  that  night,  and  then  secure  what  of  their  arms  she  could, 
and  endeavor  to  escape  with  her  children.  She  believed,  she  said, 
that  by  securing  and  secreting  their  arms,  and  then  firing  upon 
them,  she  could  so  confuse  them  that  they  would  take  to  immediate 
flight.  Luckily,  however,  the  brave  woman  was  not  forced  to  make 
any  such  attempt. 

Young  Daviess,  who  was  scalped,  was  horribly  disfigured  by  his 
mutilation,  and  ever  entertained  the  bitterest  hate  for  the  savages. 
This  he  determined  to  take  the  first  opportunity  of  satiating.  His 
father  died  the  year  after  this  savage  raid,  and  it  is  supposed  that 
his  violent  exertions  on  that  occasion  were  the  cause  of  his  death. 
Ten  years  after  his  horrible  experience,  young  Daviess,  now  twenty- 
one  years  of  age,  went,  with  a party  of  neighbors,  in  pursuit  of 
some  Indians,  who  had  been  stealing  horses  from  the  whites,  and 
falling  into  an  ambuscade,  was  killed. 

We  will  give  two  other  incidents  in  the  life  of  Mrs.  Daviess,  and 
our  sketch  is  concluded.  Just  before  her  husband’s  death,  Ken- 
tucky was  infested  with  desperadoes,  some  of  whom  operated  in 
organized  bands,  while  others  perpetrated  their  evil  deeds  single- 
handed.  Among  the  latter  was  one,  who  was  noted  for  his  deter- 
mined bravery  and  his  lawlessness.  He  had  committed  frequent 
depredations  upon  the  property  of  Daviess  and  his  neighbors,  and 
at  last  they  determined  to  hunt  him  down,  and  deliver  him  to  the 
officers  of  the  law. 

It  so  happened,  that  while  they  were  out  on  this  hunt,  the  very 
desperado  for  whom  they  were  searching,  rode  up  to  the  house,  dis- 
mounted, and  entered  with  his  gun  and  tomahawk.  Mrs.  Daviess 
knew  him  at  once,  and  she  could  also  see  that  he  had  not  heard 
of  the  hunt  that  had  been  instituted.  Inviting  him  to  take  a seat, 


284 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


she  placed  before  him  a bottle  of  whisky  and  a glass,  telling  him 
to  help  himself. 

This  he  proceeded  to  do,  and  while  engaged  in  the  pleasant 
pastime  of  swallowing  the  fiery  beverage,  she  stepped  into  an 
adjoining  room,  got  a rifie,  cocked  it,  and  marched  in  upon  the 


desperado,  before  he  could  either  retreat  or  use  his  weapons. 
Warning  him  that  if  he  did  not  sit  still  she  would  kill  him,  she 
mounted  guard,  and  held  him  a prisoner  in  the  room  until  the  return 
of  her  husband,  when  he  took  charge  of  the  fellow,  and  delivered 
him  over  to  justice.  ^ • 


MRS.  DAVIESS  AND  MRS.  PORTER. 


285 


At  another  time,  Mrs.  Daviess  noticed  an  Indian  skulking  along 
under  the  edge  of  a high  crag,  and  believing  him  to  be  bent  on  mis- 
chief, she  stepped  quickly  into  the  house,  and  securing  a rifle, 
secreted  herself  behind  a large  tree,  and  watched  the  savage  closely. 
At  last,  seeing  him  examine  his  rifle  carefully,  and  raise  it  to  his 
shoulder,  she  took  a hasty  aim  and  fired,  and  the  Indian  fell  dead. 
Reloading  her  rifle,  she  made  her  way  to  the  clearing  where  her  hus- 
band was  at  work,  and  from  his  position  she  had  no  doubt  but  that 
he  was  the  intended  victim  of  the  savage . 

MRS.  PORTER. 

The  next  incident,  which  we  shall  relate,  occurred  during  the  Indian 
war,  which  had  been  incited  by  the  eloquence,  and  conducted  by  the 
genius  of  Pontiac,  one  of  the  greatest  chiefs  America  ever  produced. 
Had  the  Indians  possessed  the  tenacity  of  purpose,  and  the  inextin- 
guishable courage  of  their  white  opponents,  so  well  were  the  meas- 
ures of  this  savage  Napoleon  taken,  and  so  admirable  his  plans,  that 
for  a time  at  least,  the  extension  of  the  pioneer  settlements  would 
have  been  checked,  and  their  advanced  posts  wiped  off  of  the  face 
of  the  earth. 

But  easily  dispirited  by  defeat,  and  lacking  the  bull-dog  pluck 
necessary  to  carry  into  effect  any  great  design,  if  they  failed  at  the 
first  rush  to  accomplish  their  purpose,  they  were  ready  for  a retreat. 
In  this  way  the  ambitious  schemes  of  their  great  leader  were 
defeated,  and  their  conspiracy  came  to  naught. 

Amongst  other  things,  we  have  it,  on  the  authority  of  the  Indians 
themselves,  that  during  this  war  some  of  the  tribes  partially  returned 
to  a state  of  cannibalism,  and  the  hearts  of  several  white  men  were 
cooked  and  eaten.  While  the  war  was  in  progress,  innumerable 
deeds  of  bloodshed  and  cruelty  were  enacted  by  the  savages,  and 
during  these  terrible  scenes,  the  heroism  of  the  border  women  was 
often  made  manifest.  One  of  the  most  notable  occasions  was  the 
one  we  will  now  narrate. 

Prior  to  the  beginning  of  this  war,  a Mr.  Porter  had  removed  to 

cj  O 7 

the  Sinking  Valley,  in  Huntington  County,  Pennsylvania.  He  was 
accompanied  by  his  wife,  the  couple  having  no  children.  The  por- 
tion of  Virginia  from  which  they  had  removed,  had  long  since  ceased 
to  be  infested  by  the  savages,  but  neither  Mr.  Porter  nor  his  wife, 


286 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


was  a- stranger  to  their  character  and  their  fiendishness..  It  hap- 
pened on  one  occasion,  when  her  husband  had  gone  to  mill,  that  Mrs. 
Porter  saw  an  Indian,  hideously  painted  and  heavily  armed,  approach- 
ing the  house.  Knowing  that,  in  so  open  a structure  as  her  cabin 


she  could  not  repel  a siege,  she  determined  upon  a bold,  but 
desperate  expedient. 

Taking  down  her  husband’s  rifle,  she  placed  it  in  a convenient 
position,  and  getting  his  heavy  sabre  (for  her  husband  was  a militia 
captain  I ) she  opened  the  door  sufficiently  wide  for  a person  to  pass 


MRS.  DAVIESS  AND  MRS.  PORTER. 


287 


in,  and  then  so  secured  it  that  it  could  not  be  pushed  wide  open. 
The  savages,  who  had  doubtless,  from  some  convenient  ambush,  wit- 
nessed the  departure  of  her  husband,  advanced  with  the  utmost  con- 
fidence, though  at  some  distance  from  each  other,  and  in  single  file. 
Their  conduct  showed  conclusively  that  they  had  no  idea  of  the  recep- 
tion awaiting  them. 

Reaching  the  door,  behind  which  Mrs.  Porter  was  hidden,  the  first 
Indian  entered  leisurely,  and  was  about  to  make  himself  at  home, 
when,  with  a rapid  sweep  of  the  sabre,  the  brave  woman  cleft  his 
skull,  and  without  a sigh  or  a groan,  he  fell  dead.  The  second  followed 
quickly  in  his  leader’s  footsteps,  and  like  him  fell  beneath  the  edge 
of  the  sabre.  The  third,  pressing  eagerly  on,  beheld  the  fall  of  his 
comrades,  and  fearing  to  enter,  hovered  around  the  house.  In  order 
to  get  a shot  at  the  third  Indian, Mrs.  Porter  ascended  to  the  upper 
story,  and  the  savage,  seeing  this  movement,  and  thinking  she  was 
endeavoring  to  hide,  rushed  up  the  stairs  after  her,  and  on  reaching 
the  upper  floor,  was  fired  upon  and  killed. 

Hoping  that  the  last  of  her  foes  had  fallen,  Mrs.  Porter  went  cau- 
tiously down  the  stairs,  and  looking  around  the  yard,  she  saw  a skulk- 
ing savage  sneaking  off  at  the  top  of  his  speed.  She  then  ran  hastily 
along  the  road  her  husband  had  taken,  fearing  that  larger  bodies  of 
Indians  might  be  around.  She  met  her  husband  on  his  return,  told 
him  what  she  had  done,  and  they  sought  the  shelter  of  the  nearest 
block-house.  On  the  next  morning  a party  went  to  the  house,  and 
found  that  it  had  been  rifled  and  burned,  but  in  its  ashes  were  the 
half-consumed  skeletons  of  the  three  Indians. 

This  brave  exploit  has  rarely  been  equaled,  and  never  excelled 
even  amongst  the  firm-nerved,  hardy  heroines  of  the  border,  and 
must  ever  challenge  our  admiration  and  excite  our  wonder,  so  long  as 
gallant  actions  call  up  a thrill  of  enthusiasm  in  the  breasts  of  men. 
This  daring  achievemeut,  the  action  of  a delicate  woman,  was  wor- 
thy the  time-tried  and  battle-tempered  courage  of  one  of  the  iron 
veterans  of  Napoleon. 


CHAPTER  XXXnL 


MRS.  MERRILL  AND  WAR-WOMAN  CREEK. 


THE  MOST  REMARKABLE  FEAT  ON  RECORD THE  NIGHT  ATTACK THE  HOUSE 

SURROUNDED A FAITHFUL  DOG THE  OPEN  DOOR MR.  MERRILL 

WOUNDED THE  BARRICADE A WEAK  GARRISON THE  BREACH  EF- 
FECTED   A KENTUCKY  AMAZON HER  HEROIC  DEFENSE FOUR  INDIANS 

KILLED A DIVISION TWO  INDIANS  TRY  THE  CHIMNEY THE  FEATHER 

TICK SUFFOCATED  SAVAGES TWO  MORE  SLAUGHTERED THE  SEVENTH 

WOUNDED HIS  FLIGHT A TALE  OF  TERROR THE  GIANT  SQUAW 

AN  IMMENSE  TOMAHAWK WAR-WOMAN  CREEK AN  INDIAN  LEGEND 

A DEED  OF  BLOOD A BEREAVED  MOTHER LEFT  FOR  DEAD THE 

DESIRE  FOR  VENGEANCE ON  THJS  TRAIL -THE  INDIAN  CAMP THE 

HUNTER  AND  THE  HUNTED A RIGHTEOUS  FURY DEATH  OF  THE  INDIANS 

BEBOUNDING  CRUELTY DEATH  OF  THE  WHITE  WOMAN REAPING 

THE  WHIRLWIND. 


MRS.  MERRILL. 

Probably  one  of  the  most  remarkable  of  combats,  if  not  the  most 
remarkable  on  record,  was  that  of  this  heroine.  When  we  take  into 
consideration  the  great  odds  against  her,  the  depressing  circum- 
stances under  which  she  fought,  her  steady  bravery,  her  ready  wit, 
and  quick  expedients,  we  may  lay  aside  all  question  of  sex,  and  place 
this  exploit  on  a plane  with  that  of  any  hero  that  ever  lived. 

About  twelve  o’clock  one  night,  during  the  summer  of  1787,  the 
Indians  surrounded  the  house  of  John  Merrill,  in  Nelson  County, 
Kentucky.  The  faithful  dog  gave  warning  of  their  presence,  and 
Mr.  Merrill  incautiously  opened  the  door  to  look  out.  This  was 
just  such  a chance  as  the  savages  wished,  and  firing  a volley  from 
their  rifles,  Merrill  fell  to  the  floor  with  a broken  arm  and  thigh. 
Calling  hastily  to  his  wife  to  close  the  door,  the  Indians  were  thus 
made  aware  of  his  crippled  condition,  and  fearing  no  danger  from 
the  white  woman,  the  door  was  no  sooner  closed  than  they  began 
hacking  at  it  with  their  tomahawks  and  soon  effected  a large  breach. 

They  now  prepared  to  force  their  way  in,  but  here  they  met  with 
unexpected  opposition.  Mrs.  Merrill,  who  was  a perfect  Amazon, 
and  who  knew  no  fear,  seized  a keen  axe  standing  near,  and  stood  on 
guard.  At  last  one  of  the  savages  protruded  his  head  and  shoulders 
into  the  breach,  when,  with  a powerful  sweep  of  her  heavy  axe,  the 

288 


MRS.  MERRILL’S  TERRIBLE  COMBAT — KILLING  SIX  INDIANS  AND  WOUNDING  ONE 


MRS.  MERRILL  AND  WAR-WOMAN  CREEK 


289 


290 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


brave  woman  cleft  his  skull  in  twain,  and  then  pulled  him  through 
the  opening  in  the  door. 

This  ruse  succeeded;  supposing  that  their  comrade  had  effected 
a lodgment,  and  hearing  no  signs  of  a struggle,  another  Indian 
pressed  forward,  and  met  with  the  same  fate. 

In  this  manner  four  of  the  savages  met  their  deaths,  when  the 
others,  becoming  suspicious,  determined  to  try  another  entrance. 
Climbing  to  the  roof,  two  of  the  marauders  entered  the  broad 
chimney,  leaving  their  last  comrade  on  watch  at  the  door.  It  was  a 
trying  moment,  and  only  a ready  wit  and  quick  action  could  save 
them,  but  of  that  the  Kentucky  Amazon  was  capable.  Leaving  the 
door  for  a few  seconds,  she  darted  to  the  bed,  took  off  the  feather 
tick,  ripped  it  open  and  emptied  it  upon  the  fire. 

Rushing  back  to  the  door  again,  she  found  that  the  Indian  outside 
was  making  no  attempt  to  enter.  Just  then  there  was  a bright  blaze, 
then  a dense  smoke  and  in  a few  seconds  two  almost  suffocated  sav- 
ages fell  into  the  fire-place.  To  dash  forward,  and  cleave  their 
shaven  skulls,  was  the  work  of  but  a moment,  and  before  they  had 
recovered  from  their  suffocation,  the  tawny  murderers  were  ushered 
into  eternity, 

Not  knowing  how  many  more  of  them  there  might  be,  she  again 
mounted  guard  at  the  door,  and  as  the  surviving  savage  put  in  his 
head,  calling  for  his  companions,  $ie  aimed  a strong  blow  at  him. 
Dodging  just  in  time  to  save  his  life,  he  received  a slash  which  split 
his  cheek  from  eye  to  chin.  Howling  with  pain,  he  ran  off,  and 
made  the  best  of  his  way  back  to  the  Indian  town  of  Chillicothe. 

A white  man,  who  was  a prisoner  in  Chillicothe  at  the  time,  said 
that  the  report  of  the  Indian  was  to  the  effect  that,  after  shooting  a 
man  in  Kentucky,  they  attempted  to  enter  the  house,  and  were  met 
by  a white  squaw,  at  least  ten  feet  high,  who  had  an  immense  toma- 
hawk, with  an  edge  two  feet  long,  and  who  fought  them  with  all  the 
fury  of  a demon.  The  others  had  fought  her  bravely,  and  had  per- 
ished, he  alone,  by  his  superior  skill  and  courage,  being  enabled, 
after  dealing  the  terrible  squaw  some  deadly  blows  with  his  toma- 
hawk, to  make  his  escape  with  the  wound  in  his  cheek. 

Here  was  a heroine,  indeed,  worthy  to  have  fought  with  Boadicea 
for  a kingdom,  or  to  have  gone  up  with  Penthesilea  against  the  war- 
like Grecians,  whose  army  girdled  the  walls  and  towers  of  fated  Troy. 


MRS.  MERRILL  AND  WAR-WOMAN  CREEK. 


291 


WAR- WOMAN  CREEK. 

Our  next  legend  is  taken  from  the  traditions  of  the  Indians  them- 
selves, and  as  that  people  are  ever  prone  to  magnify  their  own 
exploits,  while  decrying  those  of  others,  we  may  conclude  that  it  is 
“an  o’er  true  tale.”  Frost,  the  historian,  recites  it  as  follows: 
“The  annals  of  North  Carolina  are  rich  in  the  traditions  of  sudden 
surprises  and  savage  slaughter,  and  not  a hill,  vale  or  water-course 
in  the  western  part  of  the  State,  but  has  its  tale  full  of  wierd 
interest.  Many  of  the  massacres  perpetrated  by  the  Creeks,  Chero- 
kees,  and  other  southern  tribes,  were  upon  detached  settlers,  and  thus 
whole  families,  as  in  the  present  instance,  may  have  often  been  blot- 
ted out  of  existence,  the  fact  attracting  no  attention,  owing  to  the 
want  of  neighbors  to  whom  it  might  have  become  known,  and  by 
whom  it  might  have  been  perpetuated.  In  such  cases  the  account  of 
the  savages  present  the  only  record  of  these  bloody  facts. 

The  facts  were  first  made  known  by  an  old  Indian  in  1838,  and  are 
as  follows : “Many  years  ago,  in  the  first  settlement  of  the  country,  a 
wandering  party  of  their  tribe  (the  Cherokees)  attacked  the  house 
of  a squatter,  somewhere  up  on  their  borders,  during  his  absence,  and 
massacred  all  his  children,  and  left  his  wife  covered  with  the 
mangled  bodies  of  her  butchered  offspring;  scalped,  like  them,  and 
apparently  dead.  She  was  not,  however,  wounded  so  badly  as  they 
supposed,  and  no  sooner  did  she  hear  the  sound  of  their  retreating 
footsteps,  than,  disengaging  herself  from  the  heap  of  the  slain,  hag- 
gard, pale,  and  drenched  with  her  own  and  the  blood  of  her  children, 
she  peered  steadily  from  the  door,  and  finding  her  enemies  no  longer  in 
sight,  hastily  extinguished  the  fire,  which,  before  leaving,  they  had 
applied  to  her  cabin,  but  which  had,  as  yet,  made  very  little  impres- 
sion on  the  green  logs  of  which  it  was  composed. 

Wiping  from  her  eyes  the  warm  blood,  still  reeking  from  her 
scalpless  head,  she  directed  her  agonized  gaze  to  the  bleeding  and 
disfigured  frames  of  those  who,  scarce  an  hour  before,  were  playing 
at  the  door,  and  gladdening  her  maternal  heart  with  their  merry 
laughter,  and  as  she  felt,  in  the  full  sense  of  her  desolation,  the  last 
ray  of  hope  die  within  her  bosom,  there  stole  over  her  ghastly  face 
an  expression  as  savage  as  was  ever  worn  by  the  ruthless  slayers  of 
her  innocent  babes. 

Her  eyes  gleamed  with  the  wild  fury  of  the  tigress  robbed  of  its 
young,  as  closing  her  cabin  carefully  behind  her,  with  a countcmr  e 


292 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


animated  by  some  desperate  purpose,  she  started  off  in  the  same 
path  by  which  the  murderers  had  departed.  Heedless  of  her  wounds 
and  wasting  blood,  and  lost  to  all  sense  of  hunger  and  fatigue  in  the 
one  absorbing  and  fell  purpose  which  actuated  her,  she  paused  not 
upon  the  trail  of  her  foes,  until  at  night  she  came  up  with  them, 
encamped  at  the  side  of  the  creek,  which  is  indebted  to  her  for  its 
present  name. 

Emerging  from  the  gloom  of  the  surrounding  darkness,  on  her 
hands  and  knees,  she  noiselessly  crept  toward  the  fire,  the  blaze  of 
which,  as  it  flickered  upward,  discovered  to  her  the  prostrate  forms 
of  the  Indians,  who,  overcome  by  an  unusually  fatiguing  day’s 
travel,  were  wrapped  in  deep  sleep  with  their  only  weapons,  their 
tomahawks,  in  their  belts.  Her  stealthily  advancing  figure,  as  the 
uncertain  light  of  the  burning  fire  fell  upon  it  with  more  or  less 
distinctness — now  exoosing  its  lineaments  clotted  with  blood,  and 
distorted  by  an  expression  which  her  wrongs  and  the  desolators  of 
her  hearthstone  exaggerated  to  a degree  almost  fiendish : and  now 
shading  all,  save  two  gleaming,  spectral  eyes — was  even  more  strik- 
ing than  the  swarthy  faces  which  she  glared  upon. 

Assuring  herself  that  they  were  fast  asleep,  she  gently  removed 
their  tomahawks  and  dropped  all  but  one  in  the  creek.  With  this 
remaining  weapon  in  her  hand,  and  cool  resolution  in  her  heart,  she 
bent  over  the  nearest  enemy,  and  lifting  the  instrument,  to  which 
her  own  and  her  children’s  blood  still  adhered,  with  one  terrific  and 
unerring  blow  buried  it  into  the  temple  of  its  owner.  The  savage 
moved  no  more  than  partly  to  turn  upon  his  side,  gasped  a little, 
quivered  a minute  like  an  aspen,  and  sunk  back  to  his  former  posi- 
tion quite  dead.  Smiling  ghastly  in  his  rigid  face,  the  desperate 
woman  left  him,  and  noiselessly  as  before,  dispatched  all  the  sleep- 
ers, but  one,  to  that  long  rest  from  which  only  the  last  trump  can 
awaken  them. 

The  last  devoted  victim,  however,  was  roused  to  a consciousness 
of  his  situation,  by  the  death  struggles  of  his  companions.  He 
sprang  to  his  feet  and  felt  for  his  weapon.  It  was  not  there,  and 
one  glance  explained  everything  to  him ; he  evaded  the  blow  aimed 
at  him  by  the  brave  and  revengeful  mother,  seized  from  the  fire  a 
burning  brand,  and  with  it  succeeded  in  partially  warding  off  the 
furious  attack  which  followed.  In  a little  time  they  fell  struggling 
together,  the  Indian  desperately  wounded,  and  the  unfortunate 


MRS.  MERRILL  AND  WAR- WOMAN  CREEK. 


293 


woman  faint  with  the  loss  of  blood  and  her  extraordinary  exertions. 
Both  were  too  weak  to  harm  each  other  now,  and  the  wounded  sav- 
age only  availed  himself  of  his  remaining  strength  to  crawl  away. 

In  her  piteous  plight  the  poor  woman  remained  until  near  noon 
on  the  following  day,  when  she  was  accidentally  discovered  by  a 
straggling  party  of  whites,  to  whom  she  told  her  story,  and  then 
died.  After  burying  her  on  the  spot,  they  made  some  exertions  to 
overtake  the  fugitive  Indian,  but  unsuccessfully.  He  succeeded  in 
reaching  his  tribe,  and  from  his  tale,  the  little  stream  before  men- 
tioned, was  ever  afterwards  known  among  the  Cherokees,  and  also 
by  the  pale  faces,  as  the  “War-Woman  Creek.” 

A gruesome  tale,  but  one  well  showing  the  fond  love  of  a mother 
turned  to  a frenzy  of  despairing  hate  against  the  inhuman  murder- 
ers of  her  loved  ones.  It  would,  too,  be  difficult  to  find  an  instance 
in  which  an  excess  of  cruelty  rebounded  with  fatal  effect  upon  its 
perpetrators  more  swiftly,  or  in  which  a righteous  retribution  was 
more  speedily  wrought,  or  by  a feebler  instrument,  than  in  this  case. 
They  who  had  sown  the  wind  of  brutal  slaughter  and  coward  out- 
rage, reaped  the  whirlwind  of  righteous  death,  through  midnight 
murder. 


CHAPTEE  XXXI Y. 


HEROIC  CHILDREN. 


THE  JOHNSON  BOYS CHILDISH  PLAY INDIANS  IN  DISGUISE THE  CAP- 
TURE  THE  CAMP  AT  NIGHT CLOSE  PRISONERS THE  RELEASE 

A PLAN  TO  KILL  THE  INDIANS THE  LITTLE  TREMBLER A GALLANT 

YOUTH FLIGHT  TOWARDS  HOME THE  ELDER  JOHNSON’S  PLAN A 

WONDERFUL  TALE INCREDULITY A VISIT  TO  THE  CAMP ONE  DEAD 

INDIAN ONE  TERRIBLY  WOUNDED ESCAPE  OF  THE  LATTER YOUNG 

DARKE RABBIT  HUNTING NOBLER  GAME AN  INFURIATED  PANTHER 

SAVAGE  COMBAT DARKE  TO  THE  RESCUE DESPERATE  BRAVERY 

ST.  CLAIR’S  DEFEAT A FURIOUS  CHARGE MIRACULOUS  ESCAPES 

DARKE’S  APPEARANCE CUTS  DOWN  A SAVAGE HIS  SERVICES 

YOUNG  BINGAMAN A GIANT’S  BATTLE A FEARLESS  SETTLER CABIN 

SURPRISED A COWARDLY  HAND A WOUNDED  WOMAN SEVEN 

INDIANS  KILLED  WITH  A RIFLE  BARREL PURSUIT  OF  INDIANS THE 

PREMATURE  ATTACK THE  ENVIOUS  CAPTAIN THE  REPROOF THE 

CHILDISH  PRISONER BRUTALLY  ABUSED BOLD  DETERMINATION 

ATTACK  POSTPONED REGRETS TWO  AT  A SHOT THE  DEAD  AND 

WOUNDED THE  BOY’S  REVENGE SAFE  AT  HOME.  . 


THE  JOHNSON  BOYS. 

Even  the  children  of  these  pioneer  parents,  when  occasion  offered, 
showed  the  same  courage  and  determination  that  marked  the  con- 
duct of  their  fathers  and  mothers.  One  of  the  most  remarkable 
instances  of  skill  and  bravery  ever  shown  by  children  was  the 
exploit  of  the  two  Johnson  boys;  one  aged  about  twelve  years,  the 
other  nine.  They  were  one  day  playing  upon  the  banks  of  Short 
Creek,  a stream  that  empties  into  the  Muskingum,  near  its  mouth. 
They  were  engaged  in  the  childish  pastime  of  skipping  stones  along 
the  surface  of  the  water,  and  soon  noticed  approaching  them  two 
men  dressed  as  ordinary  farmers.  These  men  stopped  from  time  to 
time  to  skip  stones  along  the  water,  as  if  full  of  innocent  sport,  and 
this,  together  with  their  dress  and  the  fact  that  no  one  anticipated 
any  trouble  from  the  savages,  prevented  any  alarm  on  the  part  of 
the  boys. 

When,  however,  they  had  approached  so  near  to  the  boys  that 
they  knew  the  latter  could  not  escape,  they  sprung  swiftly  forward, 
and  soon  had  captured  them.  They  proved  to  be  two  Delaware 
Indians.  Taking  the  children  in  their  arms,  tney  turned  into  tiv 

294 


HEROIC  CHILDREN. 


295 

woods,  and  made  a rapid  march  of  six  or  seven  miles.  They 
then  halted,  made  a fire,  and  camped  for  the  night,  and  anticipating 
no  trouble  from  the  children,  they  set  their  rifles  and  tomahawks 
against  the  tree  at  their  heads,  and  lay  down  to  sleep,  each  of  them 
holding  a boy  in  his  arms.  After  lying  quietly  thus  until  the  fire 
had  burned  down  to  a bed  of  coals,  the  elder  of  the  boys  began 
trying  to  release  himself  from  his  captor’s  arms,  and  as  the  latter 
seemed  to  be  very  tired,  and  was  sleeping  very  soundly,  he  in  a 
little  while  succeeded. 

Unwilling  to  escape  and  leave  his  little  brother  in  the  hands  of  the 
savages,  he  walked  to  the  fire,  and  throwing  on  some  wood  to  make 
a light,  so  that  he  might  be  able  to  see  the  exact  position  of  the 
Indians  and  their  arms,  he  stepped  noiselessly  to  his  brother,  and 
whispered  him  to  try  and  release  himself.  The  latter  did  so,  and 
both  were  now  free;  but  the  elder  had  no  idea  of  being  recaptured 
by  the  savages,  and  he  hurriedly  whispered  to  his  brother  the  plan 
he  had  conceived  for  dispatching  the  Indians.  He  wo’uld  sight  a 
rifle  on  one  of  them,  cock  it  and  leave  it  at  a rest,  so  that  all  the 
smaller  boy  had  to  do  was  to  pull  the  trigger,  and  that  Indian  would 
be  killed.  He  would  stand  over  the  other  one  with  a tomahawk,  and 
when  he  gave  the  word,  his  brother  was  to  fire  and  he  would  strike. 

While  he  Tvas  making  his  arrangements,  the  younger  boy  had 
become  very  nervous,  and  before  his  brother  was  prepared,  pulled 
the  trigger.  The  explosion  of  course  roused  the  other  savage,  and 
he  started  to  spring  up,  but  the  elder  Johnson  struck  him  a heavy 
blow  with  his  tomahawk.  He  had  used  the  blunt  end  of  the  blade, 
and  the  Indian  was  only  stunned,  but  turning  the  weapon  in  his 
hand  he  rained  a shower  of  blows  upon  his  head  before  he  had  recov- 
ered, and  then  ran  off  after  his  little  brother,  who  had  fled  as  soon 
as  he  pulled  the  trigger  of  the  rifle,  and  whose  flight  had  been  so  rapid 
that  he  was  with  difficulty  overtaken,  evidently  fancying  the  sav- 
ages in  full  pursuit. 

Before  going  a hundred  yards  from  the  camp  that  had  proved  so 
fatal  to  the  Delawares,  the  older  boy  had  the  forethought  to  place 
his  hat  upon  a bush,  so  that  he  might  be  able  to  again  find  the  spot. 

Traveling  rapidly  from  the  time  of  their  escape,  they  reached 
home  just  at  daylight,  where  they  found  their  mother  greatly  terri- 
fied at  their  unaccountable  absence.  She  supposed  that  they  had 
been  drowned,  scarcely  giving  a thought  to  any  danger  from 


296 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Indians.  When  the  boys  told  their  tale  to  the  assembled  neighbors, 
it  was  received  with  a great  deal  of  incredulity,  all  insisting  that,  if 
it  was  true,  the  boys  should  lead  them  to  the  scene  of  the  exploit. 

To  this  the  elder  brother  readily  agreed,  and  setting  out,  they 
reached  the  camp  early  in  the  afternoon.  Here  they  found  the  sav- 
age who  had  been  tomahawked,  but  the  one  who  had  been  shot,  had 
disappeared.  At  length,  however,  they  discovered  a trail  of  blood, 
leading  from  the  place,  and  following  it  up,  they  came  upon  the 
other  Indian.  His  under  jaw  had  been  entirely  shot  away,  and  with 
his  hands,  arms  and  breast  covered  with  blood,  he  made  a horrible 
appearance.  As  his  pursuers  came  up,  he  faced  about  and  stood  at 
bay,  and  each  time  that  the  pursuit  was  pressed,  he  exhibited  this 
resolute  demeanor,  until  the  white  men,  either  repelled  by  his  ghastly 
appearance,  or,  as  they  claimed,  afraid  that  he  would  lead  them  into 
an  ambush,  allowed  him  to  make  good  his  escape.  It  is  hardly 
probable  that,  with  so  frightful  a wound,  he  could  reach  his  people 
or  recover,  but  still  he  had  saved  his  scalp  from  the  pale-faces,  and 
that,  to  an  Indian,  was  a signal  triumph.  These  events  occurred 
in  1793. 

YOUNG  DARKE. 

Lieutenant-Colonel  Darke,  who  distinguished  himself  by  such 
heroic  gallantry  at  St.  Clair’s  defeat,  early  showed  the  firm  qualities 
of  his  soul.  When  a lad  of  seven  or  eight  years,  he  went  into  the 
woods  with  a small  axe  and  a dog,  for  the  purpose  of  hunting  rab- 
bits. After  a considerable  amount  of  this  boyish  sport,  Darke 
started  for  home  very  tired,  and  with  Ins  rabbits  slung  across  his 
shoulders.  When  about  a mile  from  home,  he  noticed  a large  animal 
in  a tree,  and  was  passing  along  carelessly  when  the  creature 
sprang  at  him.  By  a quick  movement  the  boy  evaded  its  leap,  and 
as  it  struck  the  ground,  it  was  seized  by  his  faithful  dog. 

It  soon  became  evident  that  the  dog,  though  large  and  powerful, 
was  no  match  for  this  animal,  which  Darke  now  knew  to  be  a 
panther.  He  had  heard  terrible  accounts  of  the  fierceness  of  the 
panther,  but  he  could  not  make  up  his  mind  to  abandon  the  dog, 
which  had  come  to  his  aid.  Rushing  up  to  the  struggling  animals, 
he  struck  the  panther  a couple  of  swift  blows,  compelling  it  to 
release  the  dog.  The  fierce  brute,  infuriated  by  its  wounds,  now 
turned  upon  the  boy,  and  fastened  its  huge  teeth  in  his  leg.  Though 
suffering  terribly  with  pain,  the  boy  continued  to  slash  the  panther 


HEROIC  CHILDREN. 


2<)7 

with  his  axe,  and  at  last,  when  its  attention  was  engaged  by  the  dog, 
which  had  again  come  to  the  rescue,  he  succeeded  in  splitting  its 
skull,  and  the  combat  was  ended. 


YOUNG  DARKE’S  ADVENTURE  WITH  THE  PANTHER,, 


When  a mere  youth,  Darke  became  a soldier,  and  by  his  desper  de 
bravery,  his  coolness,  and  military  skill,  rapidly  vron  his  way  to  the 
rank  of  Lieutenant-Colonel ,_which  he  held  at  the  battle  already 


298 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


alluded  to,  where  St.  Glair  suffered  so  signal  a defeat  at  the  hands  of 
the  allied  savages.  During  this  engagement,  Darke  was  everywhere 
in  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  and  his  clothing  was  cut  in  many  places 
by  the  bullets  of  the  enemy.  When  the  rout  began,  St.  Clair  col- 
lected the  stragglers  from  half  a dozen  batallions,  and  placing  at 
their  head  young  Darke,  the  bravest  of  the  brave,  gave  the  order 
to  charge,  and,  if  possible,  check  the  victorious  savages,  who  were 
cutting  down  the  whites  by  the  score. 

Infusing  into  his  men  a portion  of  his  own  bravery  and  enthu- 
siasm, Darke  put  himself  at  their  head,  and  thundered  down  upon 
the  flushed  redskins.  The  charge  was  successful,  and  finding  that 
there  was  still  some  resistance  to  be  overcome,  the  savages  became 
more  cautious  in  their  advance,  and  thus  a general  massacre  was 
averted.  The  Indians  were  driven  back  fully  a quarter  of  a mile, 
and  relieved  from  this  pressure,  the  flying  whites  became  cooler  and 
more  orderly  in  their  retreat.  Darke’s  escape  from  death  was 
almost  miraculous.  His  face  was  handsome,  his  bearing  erect  and 
military,  he  having  served  through  the  war  of  the  Revolution,  and 
his  person  tall  and  noble,  making  him,  in  his  elegant  uniform,  a 
conspicuous  mark  for  the  enemies’  sharp-shooters. 

In  his  last  charge,  when  he  had  beaten  back  the  enemy,  and  was 
returning  to  his  former  position,  Ensign  Wilson,  a gallant  boy  of 
seventeen,  fell  to  the  ground  shot  through  the  heart,  and  an  Indian, 
who  lay  hid  in  the  high  grass,  sprang  up  to  scalp  him.  Noticing 
the  action,  Darke,  who  was  retreating  in  the  rear  of  his  regiment, 
faced  quickly  about,  rushed  at  the  savage,  and  with  a single  blow 
of  his  sabre  split  his  skull  wide  open.  He  met  with  a close  volley 
from  dozens  of  rifles  in  performing  this  noble  action,  but  reached 
his  regiment  in  safety.  Darke  participated  in  all  of  the  Indian 
campaigns,  and  after  the  peace  of  1794,  returned  to  his  home  in 
Virginia. 

YOUNG  BINGAMAN. 

In  the  year  1758,  a gigantic  Virginian,  named  Bingaman,  was  tin 
actor  in  a savage  combat,  without  a parallel  in  the  annals  of  border 
warfare.  At  this  time  he  was  living  with  his  family  in  a detached 
cabin,  on  the  present  site  of  the  flourishing  little  city  of  Petersburg. 
His  cabin  was  at  some  distance  from  the  nearest  settlement,  and 
Bingaman  was  often  warned  by  his  neighbor  of  the  great  peril  to 


HEROIC  CHILDREN. 


299 


which  his  family  was  exposed.  He  was,  however,  a man  of  the 
greatest  strength  and  activity,  and  was  absolutely  without  fear. 
He  averred  that  he  was  perfectly  able  to  repel  any  number  of  the 
savages  that  were  likely  to  assail  him,  and  that  he  intended  to 
remain  where  he  was  at  all  hazards. 

His  ability  to  defend  himself  was  put  to  its  full  test  that  fall,  for 
one  night  a party  of  eight  Indians  made  a desperate  effort,  and 
forced  the  door  of  the  cabin,  before  Bingaman  was  aware  of  their 
presence.  The  cabin  consisted  of  but  two  rooms,  one  on  the  first  and 
one  in  the  second  story.  In  the  lower  room  slept  Bingaman,  his  wife 
and  little  son,  and  his  aged  parents ; the  upper  room  was  occupied 
by  a hired  man.  When  the  savages  entered,  they  fired  a volley  into 
the  room,  wounding  Mrs.  Bingaman  slightly  in  the  left  breast,  but 
the  heroic  woman  would  not  cry  out  or  complain,  for  fear  it  might 
disconcert  her  husband.  Calling  to  his  family  to  get  under  the  beds, 
and  to  the  hired  man  to  come  to  his  aid,  the  former  promptly  obeyed, 
but  the  latter  did  not  stir. 

Discharging  his  gun  at  random,  for  the  room  was  very  dark,  he 
stripped  off  his  only  garment,  so  that  the  Indians  might  not  be  able 
to  hold  him,  and  clubbing  his  gun,  began  to  use  it  with  terrible 
effect.  Certain  that  his  family  had  obeyed  his  command,  he  struck 
savagely  at  every  moving  form,  and  so  powerful  were  his  blows  and 
so  great  his  activity,  that  out  of  the  eight  assailants,  seven  were 
soon  stretched  dead,  or  dying,  upon  the  floor  of  the  cabin,  which 
now  looked  like  a slaughter  house,  piled  with  its  bloody  victims. 
Several  times  the  Indians  grappled  with  him  during  his  terrific  strug- 
gles, but,  owing  to  his  precaution  in  removing  his  shirt,  were  unable 
to  hold  him.  The  eighth  Indian,  glad  to  escape  from  the  blows  of 
the  giant  borderer,  fled  howling  from  the  scene. 

When  morning  came,  Bingaman  discovered  that  his  wife  had  been 
wounded,  and  so  great  was  his  anger  at  the  craven  part  played  by 
the  hired  man,  that  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  he  could  be 
prevailed  on,  by  his  wife,  not  to  shoot  him. 

Another  incident  of  the  prowess  of  the  Virginian  is  given  on  the 
authority  of  Kercheval.  A party  of  the  whites  were  pursuing  a 
number  of  marauding  savages,  and  had  come  upon  them  just  as  they 
were  going  into  camp  for  the  night.  It  was  hurriedly  determined 
not  to  attack  until  the  savages  had  gone  to  sleep,  as  by  that  means 


300 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


it  was  hoped  that  all  of  them  might  be  killed.  The  whites  dis- 
mounted, and  Bingaman  was  ordered  by  the  captain  to  hold  the 
horses,  while  the  others  went  ahead  to  reoonnoiter  the  camp.  Dis- 
regarding these  orders,  Bingaman  pushed  on  with  the  rest,  the 
action  was  prematurely  brought  on  by  an  impetuous  young  man 
firing  at  an  Indian  who  wTas  approaching  him  rather  closely. 

All  was  now  confusion.  The  savages  started  to  fly,  and  Binga- 
man, dropping  his  rifle,  dashed  forward  in  the  pursuit.  Singling 
out  a gigantic  Indian,  he  passed  unnoticed  several  smaller  ones,  and 
reaching  his  victim,  split  his  skull  with  a well-aimed  blow.  As  the 
others  began  to  reach  him,  he  cut  them  down  one  by  one,  and  the 
other  whites  having  closely  followed  the  flying  enemy,  there  were 
none  left,  and  the  combat  ceased.  At  this  point,  the  captain  of  the 
company,  an  enemy  of  Bingaman,  came  up  to  him  and  thundered 
out,  “Why  are  you  not  with  the  horses,  sir?  I ordered  you  to  stay 
wTith  the  horses. ” “I  know  you  did,”  said  the  giant,  scowling 
upon  him  with  his  terrible  eyes;  “And  I knew  your  object  was  to 
disgrace  me,  and  if  I hear  one  more  word  of  your  infernal  insolence, 
I’ll  serve  you  like  that  Indian  there,”  and  he  pointed  to  one  of  his 
victims. 

When  a child,  Bingaman  had  been  taken  a jorisoner  by  the  sav- 
ages, and  treated  with  their  usual  unkindness  and  brutality.  He  and 
an  older  companion  had  been  out  in  a canoe,  and  returning  to  the 
shore,  they  were  dragging  the  canoe  up  6n  the  sand,  when  two 
savages  rushed  out  of  the  bushes.  These  quickly  tomahawked 
and  scalped  the  young  man;  and  one  leading  and  the  other  driving, 
with  threats  and  blows,  the  thirteen  year  old  boy,  they  struck 
out  into  the  forest,  and  rapidly  pushed  on  toward  their  villages.  By 
night  they  had  made  a distance  of  some  twenty-five  miles,  and  the 
boy,  who  had  been  terribly  abused  on  the  march,  was  utterly 
worn  out. 

Even  at  that  age,  he  possessed  a determined  courage,  and  while 
the  Indians  were  making  their  preparations  to  camp,  he  was  endeaw 
oring  to  form  some  feasible  plan  of  escape.  Halting  about  half  an 
hour  before  sunset,  one  of  the  savages  had  immediately  started  out 
in  quest  of  game,  while  the  other,  having  made  a fire,  lay  down  upon 
his  blanket,  leaving  his  rifle  standing  against  a tree  near  by  him. 
Seeing  that  his  captor  anticipated  no  danger,  young  Bingaman 
at  first  determined  to  possess  himself  of  the  rifle,  slay  the  Indian 


HEROIC  CHILDREN. 


301 


and  fly,  but  reflecting  that,  even  if  the  absent  one  did  not  hear  the 
report  of  the  rifle  and  hasten  back,  it  would  be  but  a short  time  until 
the  savage  would  be  upon  his  trail,  and  feeling  his  inability  to 
cope  with  this  warrior,  he  gave  up  the  idea,  and  determined  to  wait 
until  Ihey  had  fallen  to  sleep  before  attempting  anything. 


He  knew  that  he  must  kill  both  of  them,  if  he  hoped  to  make  good 
his  escape.  On  his  return  to  camp,  the  hunter  seemed  equally  as 
unsuspecting  as  his  companion,  but  after  supper  he  proceeded  to 
bind  the  lad  tightly,  and  then  pass  one  end  of  the  cord  under  the 
boy’s  body  and  tied  it  to  his  own  wrist.  Thus  secured,  and  with  an 


302 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Indian  on  each  side  of  him,  the  lad  almost  regretted  not  having 
carried  out  his  first  intention.  After  awhile  both  of  the  savages 
were  sound  asleep,  and  Bingaman  began  tugging  at  his  bonds.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  he  had  been  thus  engaged  for  two  or  three  hours, 
and  he  had  just  succeeded  in  freeing  one  hand,  when  the  hunter 
awoke.  Feigning  the  soundest  sleep,  the  boy  held  the  cord  tightly 
in  his  hand,  and  the  Indian,  satisfied  by  the  groans  of  the  lad,  as  he 
jerked  the  cord,  that  his  captive  was  still  firmly  bound,  turned  over, 
and  was  soon  once  more  snoring  away. 

Releasing  his  other  hand,  the  boy  arose,  and  after  rubbing  his 
arms  and  wrists  to  restore  their  circulation,  he  matured  his  plan. 
Fearing  that  if  he  used  a tomahawk  its  blow  upon  one  might  awaken 
the  other,  he  secured  the  two  rifles,  and  aiming  one  at  each  of  the 
sleepers,  he  secured  them  in  rest  with  the  pieces  of  rotten  wood 
lying  around.  Taking  a final  sight  over  the  guns,  he  laid  a toma- 
hawk near  at  hand  and  touched  the  trigger  of  each  rifle.  Just  as  the 
explosion  occurred  one  of  the  savages  turned,  and  the  load  intended 
for  his  head  took  effect  in  his  shoulder,  while  the  other  was  instantly 
killed. 

The  wounded  one  promptly  comprehended  the  situation,  and  seiz- 
ing the  boy  endeavored  to  draw  him  to  him.  The  prudence  of  young 
Bingaman  in  providing  the  tomahawk  was  now  rewarded,  for,  seizing 
it,  the  lad  laid  blow  after  blow  upon  the  yelling  Indian,  thus  reveng- 
ing the  kicks  and  cuffs  of  the  latter,  for  this  one  had  been 
extremely  cruel  in  goading  on  the  youthful  captive.  The  savage 
was  at  last  dispatched,  and  taking  a tomahawk,  one  of  their  rifles 
and  all  of  their  ammunition,  the  lad  scalped  his  enemies  as  well  as 
he  was  able,  and  made  his  way  home  in  safety. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


MIKE  FINK— THE  LAST  OF  THE  FLATBOATMEN. 


BATTEAU  AND  BARGE KEEL  AND  FLATBOAT ERA  OF  STEAM “ROARING 

RALPH  STACKPOLE” BRAVERY THEIR  QUAINTNESS THEIR  HARD 

LIFE EXCESSES FINK’S  BIRTHPLACE DRINKING  BOUTS SHOOTING 

MATCHES HORSE  TALK JOKES  MADE  TO  LAUGH  AT AN  ADVENTURE 

AT  WESTPORT THE  QUIET  STRANGER FINK  FURIOUS THE  GROUND 

SCUFFLE FINK  WHIPPED “CALF  ROPE” ORDERED  TO  LEAVE 

FEATS  OF  MARKSMANSHIP THE  NEGRO’S  HEEL A GENTEEL  BOOT 

FINK  JEALOUS THE  NEST  OF  LEAVES PEG’S  PUNISHMENT TALBOT 

AND  CARPENTER UP  THE  MISSOURI TRAPPING THE  QUARREL 

THE  RECONCILIATION A BRUTAL  MURDER THE  UNLUCKY  BOAST 

RETRIBUTION DEATH  OF  TALBOT. 

The  era  of  steam  swept  out  of  existence  much  that  was  picturesque, 
some  things  that  were  good,  and  many  that  could  lay  claim  to  neither 
of  these  merits.  From  our  highways  it  drove  the  romantic  stage 
coach,  with  its  multiferous  traditions,  and  the  clumsy  wagon,  with  its 
lazy  team  and  obstinate  driver ; from  our  water-ways  it  banished 
the  batteau  and  the  barge,  the  keelboat  and  the  flat,  with  their 
amphibious  crews,  “half  horse,  half  alligator.”  Along  our  western 
waters  those  men,  in  their  day,  filled  the  proud  position  occupied  at 
a later  date  by  the  overland  coach  driver  on  the  broad  stretches  of 
our  western  plains,  and  excited  a universal  admiration  in  the  breasts 
of  small  boys,  hostlers  and  rural  damsels. 

These  men  were  the  models  from  which  the  stage  borrows  its 
“Roaring  Ralph  Stackpoles,  chock  full  of  fight  and  fond  of  the 
women.”  They  were  extravagant  boasters,  whose  desperate  bravery 
was  ever  ready  to  redeem  their  roystering  challenges.  The  man  who, 
braggart-like,  would  boast  of  his  ability  to  out-run,  out-jump,  knock 
down  and  drag  out  more  men  “than  any  other  cuss  from  the  roarin’ 
Salt  to  the  mighty  Massasip,”  would  brave  untold  dangers  in  defense 
of  a comrade,  and  would  fight  to  the  death  against  any  odds,  no 
matter  how  desperate,  if  only  duty,  friendship  or  affection  called 
him  into  the  breach. 

Their  courage  was  the  God-given  quality  of  the  hero ; their  quaint, 
bizarre  ways  and  expressions,  the  overflowing  of  too  exhuberant 

303 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


animal  spirits.  They  were  the  western  Gascons,  whose  strength  and 
vitality  must  find  expression  in  words,  lest,  like  the  overcharged 
boiler,  without  a safety  valve,  their  very  light-heartedness  might 
endanger  them.  Their  life  was  hard  and  full  of  excesses,  but  like 
other  necessary  evils,  they  filled  what  would  otherwise  have  been  a 
void  in  the  economy  of  their  day  and  generation,  and  when  the 
wizard  motor,  steam,  arose  to  take  their  place,  they  vanished  as 
completely  as  the  frozen  tracery  of  the  frost-work  beneath  the  ardent 
glances  of  the  golden  sun. 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  but  few,  if  any,  of  their  exploits  have 
survived  the  lapse  of  even  this  short  time,  and  we  are  forced  to 
turn  to  the  records  of  those  of  Mike  Fink,  the  last,  and  by  no  means 
the  best,  of  the  fraternity.  This  man  was  born  in  Pittsburg,  and 
like  most  of  the  rising  generation  of  his  day,  his  sole  ambition  was 
to  become  a keelboatman.  This  ambition  he  took  the  earliest 
opportunity  to  gratify,  and  soon  became  noted  along  the  Ohio  and 
Mississippi  rivers  as  one  of  the  most  dexterous  of  his  class. 

Like  others  of  the  brotherhood,  low  stages  of  the  water  compelled 
him  frequently  to  long  seasons  of  inaction,  and  these  he  usually 
spent  in  low  debauch,  or  at  the  shooting  matches  then  so  prevalent 
along  the  border.  At  rifle  shooting  his  cool  nerve  soon  made  him 
such  an  expert  that  he  was  barred  from  all  matches,  the  competitors 
preferring  to  share  with  him  rather  than  be  invariably  beaten.  In 
his  drinking  bouts,  too,  he  was  unapproachable,  and  it  is  reliably 
stated  that  he  used  often  to  drink  a gallon  a day  of  the  pure  corn 
whisky  then  made. 

It  was  the  custom,  when  two  or  more  boats  met  on  the  river  or 
tied  up  in  port,  for  the  rival  crews  to  adjourn  to  some  convenient 
spot  and  pair  off  at  fisticuffs,  until  all  hands  were  satisfied,  or  the 
proper  grade  of  a fighter’s  powers  established.  In  these  combats 
Mike’s  gigantic  strength  made  him  a formidable  competitor,  weighing 
as  he  did  one  hundred  and  eighty  pounds,  without  an  ounce  of 
superfluous  flesh.  His  talk  was  that  of  the  regular  “Salt  River 
Roarer,”  and  was  seasoned  with  a rough  sort  of  humor,  that  gained 
for  its  possessor  the  reputation  of  a wit,  and  of  this  he  was  very 
proud. 

It  was  his  custom,  when  he  had  given  utterance  to  what  he  con- 
sidered a joke,  to  lead  the  laugh  at  his  own  wit,  and  woe  to  the  man 
who  was  so  dull  of  comprehension  that  he  could  not  see  the  point  or 


MIKE  FINK THE  LAST  OF  THE  FLATBOATMEN.  305 

join  in  the  cachinnation.  His  jokes,  said  Fink,  were  made  to 
laugh  at,  and  he  did’nt  intend  that  they  should  be  slighted,  and 
forthwith  he  would  proceed  to  belabor  the  unlucky  wight.  On  one 
occasion,  while  his  boat  was  tied  up  at  Westport,  on  the  Ohio  River, 


ONE  OF  MIKE  FINK’S  JOKES. 

Mike  was,  as  usual,  cracking  his  jokes  to  an  admiring  audience.  In 
one  corner  sat  a small,  quiet-looking  man,  evidently  very  much 
abstracted,  and  deeply  bent  on  attending  to  his  own  business.  Joke 
after  joke  of  Mike’s  passed  unheeded,  until  at  last  the  “roarer” 


306 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


could  stand  it  no  longer,  so  going  over  to  the  quiet  man,  he  touched 
him  and  told  him  that  it  would  pay  him  to  give  a little  heed  to  the 
first-class  jokes  that  he  was  getting  off,  for  if  he  did’nt,  some- 
body would  get  hurt.  “Ah,”  said  the  quiet  man,  “is  that  so,” 
and  he  immediately  relapsed  into  his  reverie. 

The  next  joke  was  told  and  duly  enjoyed,  but  no  laugh  came  from 
the  corner  of  the  quiet  man,  and  Mike,  now  thoroughly  indignant, 
went  over  to  him,  and  told  him  he  intended  to  whip  him.  “Ah, 
indeed,”  asked  the  man,  “is  that  so?”  and  hardly  were  the  words 
out  of  his  mouth,  than  with  a tremendous  blow  under  the  ear  he 
struck  the  giant,  felling  him  to  the  ground.  Rising  quickly,  Fink 
made  for  the  stranger,  who  slipped  down  upon  his  back  and  began 
that  fight  with  the  feet  for  which  so  many  of  the  borderers  were 
noted,  and  in  a few  minutes  a worse  whipped  man  than  the  jolly 
flatboatman  was  never  seen. 

When  Fink  called  for  quarter,  or,  as  he  expressed  it,  “hollered 
calf  rope,”  the  quiet  man  said  to  him:  “I  am  Ned  Taylor,  sheriff 
of  this  county;  if  you  don’t  board  your  boat  and  push  off  in  five 
minutes,  I’ll  arrest  you  and  your  crew.”  To  this  Fink  did  not 
demur,  and  was  soon  floating  down  the  Ohio. 

When  gliding  along  the  river,  Mike  used  often  to  cut  off  the  tails 
of  the  pigs  running  along  the  shore,  with  bullets  from  his  rifle,  and 
on  one  occasion,  seeing  a negro  walking  along,  who  had  the  long, 
protruding  heel  of  his  race  very  strongly  developed,  he  said  it  made 
him  sad  to  think  the  poor  fellow  could  never  wear  a genteel  boot, 
and  throwing  his  rifle  to  his  shoulder,  he  sighted  along  it,  and  touch- 
ing the  trigger,  the  poor  negro  fell,  minus  one  heel. 

Another  time  Mike  had  along  with  him  a poor  creature  whom  he 
passed  off  as  his  wife,  and  becoming  jealous  of  her  glances  at  the 
men  on  an  adjoining  boat,  Fink  determined  to  punish  her  for  her 
inconstancy,  a frailty  which,  in  the  marital  relation,  he  allowed 
only  to  himself.  Going  ashore  when  the  boat  tied  up,  he  began 
building  a huge  nest  of  the  withered  autumnal  leaves,  and  having 
finished  this  to  his  satisfaction,  he  got  his  rifle  and  ordered  his  wife 
ashore.  Trembling  with  fear,  she  obeyed,  begging  pitifully  at  every 
step. 

“Get  in  that  nest,  curse  you,”  said  Fink.  “Get  in,  or  I’ll  shoot 
you.”  The  poor  creature  crawled  in,  when  Mike  covered  her  up 
with  leaves,  split  up  some  staves,  scattered  them  over  the  pile,  and 


MIKE  FINK THE  LAST  OF  THE  FLATBOATMEN. 


307 


set  the  whole  on  fire.  Peg  stood  the  heat  as  long  as  she  was  able, 
and  then,  despite  Fink’s  rifle,  dashed  out  and  jumped  into  the  river, 
her  clothes  and  hair  on  fire.  When  she  emerged,  Mike  read  her  a lec- 
ture on  the  evil  effects  of  looking  around  too  much,  and  they  sailed 
on  down  the  river. 

Fink  had  in  his  train  two  friends  named  Talbot  and  Carpenter, 
and  next  to  their  friendship  for  each  other  was  their  regard  for  this 
rough  humorist.  One  of  them,  Carpenter,  was  fully  a match  for 
Fink  with  the  rifle  and  oar,  but  they  had  never  tried  conclusions  in  a 
rough-and-tumble,  or  any  other  trial  of  skill  or  strength.  In  the 


year  1822,  when  steamboats  had  pretty  well  banished  all  crafts  pro- 
pelled by  hand,  these  three  comrades  engaged  with  Ashly  and  Henry 
for  a trip  up  the  Missouri,  on  a trapping  expedition.  Peaching  the 
Yellowstone,  they  built  a fort,  and  the  party  of  sixty  men  then  split 
up  into  five  or  six  parties,  and  spread  up  the  different  tributaries  of 
the  river. 

When  the  winter  had  set  in,  and  the  smaller  streams  began  to 
freeze,  the  men  returned  to  the  fort  for  the  purpose  of  remaining 
until  spring.  All  of  them,  except  the  men  in  Fink’s  party,  quartered 
in  the  fort;  these  built  a large  dug-out  and  remained  outside.  It 


308 


CON  QUEUING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


was  while  in  their  winter  quarters  that  Fink  and  Carpenter  had  a 
serious  quarrel,  supposably  about  an  Indian  squaw.  In  the  spring 
they  went  to  the  general  rendezvous  at  the  fort,  and  in  their  cups 
the  quarrel  was  again  agitated,  but  through  the  mediation  of  Talbot 
was  patched  up,  and  they  agreed  to  seal  their  good  humor  with  one 
of  their  novel  shooting  matches ; in  which  they  were  accustomed  to 
shoot  a tin  cup  of  whisky  off  each  other’s  heads. 

Tossing  a copper  to  see  who  should  have  the  first  shot,  Mike  won, 
and  Carpenter,  fearing  his  treacherous  disposition  and  his  unfor- 
giving heart,  made  his  will,  bequeathing  to  Talbot  his  arms  and 
wages,  and  then,  like  a brave  man,  took  his  place  with  the  cup  of 
whisky  on  his  head.  The  distance  was  sixty  yards,  and  in  the  center 
of  the  cup  was  a black  spot,  about  the  size  of  a nickel. 

“Hold  yer  head  stiddy,  Carpenter!”  called  out  Mike,  and  then 
taking  his  rifle  down  he  added,  “don’t  spill  that  whisky — I’ll  want 
some  in  a minit.”  With  these  words  he  again  raised  his  gun  to  his 
shoulder,  ran  his  eye  along  the  barrel,  and  fired. 

Without  a word  the  brave  Carpenter  fell,  and  Fink,  cocking  the 
now  empty  rifle,  blew  the  smoke  from  the  touch-hole,  and  then 
called  out,  “Did  you  spill  the  whisky,  Carpenter?” 

“He’s  dead,”  said  one  of  the  trappers;  “you’ve  killed  him.” 

“Have  I?”  asked  Fink,  “Well,  it’s  all  an  accident.  I took  as 
square  a bead  on  the  spot  on  the  cup  as  I ever  took  in  my  life,” 
and  then  he  began  blaspheming  about  his  luck,  cursing  his  eyes,  his 
gun,  and  himself. 

Of  course,  nothing  was  done  with  the  murderer,  but  with  Talbot 
the  suspicion  of  murder  became  a certainty,  and  when,  months 
afterward,  Fink  in  a braggart  mood  acknowledged  that  he  had  killed 
his  friend  on  purpose,  Talbot  coolly  drew  a pistol,  orje  of  a pair 
presented  to  him  by  the  murdered  man,  and  blew  out  Fink’s 
brains. 

Thus  perished  by  the  hands  of  a comrade  the  “Last  of  the  Flat- 
boatmen.”  Talbot,  who  became  surly  and  ferocious  after  the  death 
of  his  friends,  perished  not  long  after  in  attempting  to  swim  a 
swollen  mountain  torrent. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 


BILL  SEDLEY. 


A TYPICAL  BOATMAN A GIGANTIC  KENTUCKIAN THE  UNDER  DOG 

•‘COCK  OF  THE  WALK” HIS  STRENGTH  AND  SKILL PURE  WHISKY 

GAMBLING NEW  ORLEANS  IN  FLAT-BOATING  DAYS SALOONS “THE 

SWAMP” MOTHER  COLBY’S  “SHORE  NUFF  HOTEL” “RIDE  AND  TIE” 

POLING  AND  CORDELLING NATCHEZ  UNDER  THE  HILL BOWIE’S 

BATTLE THE  BOWIE  KNIFE ITS  CHRISTENING SEDLEY’S  EXPLOIT 

A FAMOUS  COMBAT THE  CORTINAS  BROTHERS DESPERADOES 

CLEANED  OUT  BY  GAMBLERS THE  CHEAT  DETECTED “l’M  A SALT 

RIVER  ROARER” THE  DOOR  BARRED “THE  PAINTER’S  PLAYMATE” 

THE  ROAR  OF  COMBAT TWO  TO  ONE THE  OPEN  DOOR THE  DYING 

GAMBLERS SEDLEY’S  INVITATION SEDLEY’S  WOUNDS  DRESSED 

FLIGHT  TO  KENTUCKY REFORMS A GOOD  OLD  AGE. 


Perhaps  a truer  and  better  picture  of  the  typical  flatboatman  was 
Bill  Sedley,  a gigantic  Kentuckian,  “who  feared  no  shape  of  man 
or  beast,”  though  not  at  all  quarrelsome.  Big  of  heart  and  broad 
of  shoulder,  he  was  as  generous  as  a lord,  and  would  fight  to  the 
death  for  a friend.  One  of  those  who,  from  force  of  sympathy, 
fight  always  on  the  weaker  side,  or,  as  he  would  express  it,  who 
“hang  always  to  the  under  dog,”  he  rescued  many  a stranger 
from  the  rough  river  men  of  that  day,  amongst  whom  he  was  a 
universal  favorite. 

Born  in  Kentucky  in  the  pioneer  days,  he  had  hunted  Indians 
with  Boone  and  Kenton,  and  in  that  savage  warfare  had  learned  to 
aim  a rifle  and  wield  a tomahawk  and  a scalping-knife.  He  was 
the  one  boatman  to  whom  Mike  Fink  was  willing  to  play  second 
fiddle,  since  his  aim  was  as  true,  and  his  muscle  even  greater. 
In  his  day,  he  was  undoubtedly  “the  Cock  of  the  Walk”  from 
Pittsburg  to  New  Orleans. 

Innumerable  anecdotes  are  told  of  his  prowess,  his  protracted  gam- 
bling bouts,  his  long-continued  drinking  matches,  in  which  he  con- 
sumed immense  quantities  of  white  corn  whisky,  fiery  as  Vesuvius, 
clear  as  crystal,  and  of  absolute  purity;  for  in  that  day  the  Govern- 
ment did  not  license  one  man  to  poison  his  fellows,  for  the  small  sum 
of  two  hundred  dollars  yearly,  as  it  does  now.  At  shooting,  drinking, 

309 


310 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


or  wrestling,  Sedley  was  sure  to  outdo  his  companions,  but  the  prac- 
tical skill  of  the  manipulator  of  the  cards  was  certain  to  “down”  him. 

Along  the  front  streets  of  New  Orleans,  in  the  flatboating  days, 
stood  long  rows  of  buildings,  occupied  by  those  who  catered  to  the 
trade  of  these  inland  mariners.  Generally  two  stories  in  height, 
though  some  were  three,  the  front  room  down  stairs  was  invariably 
a saloon,  while  back  of  it  was  a gambling  room,  where  roulette, 
Vignt  TJn , and  other  French  and  Spanish  games  of  chance  were 
dealt.  Up-stairs  were  long  dormitories  fitted  up  with  bunks,  and 
here  these  men  lodged,  sleeping  a few  hours  each  morning  before 
beginning  their  day’s  carouse.  The  gambling  was  all  open,  there 
being  no  attempt  made  at  concealment. 

Away  back  in  the  suburbs  of  the  city,  where  Girod  street  now 
traverses  it,  there  was  a dingy  locality,  known  as  “The  Swamp.” 
This  suburb  was  set  apart,  by  general  consent,  as  the  especial  ren- 
dezvous of  the  boatmen,  but  few  of  any  other  class  caring  to  invade 
its  uninviting  boundaries.  In  “The  Swamp”  were  brothels, 
saloons,  gambling  rooms,  and  one  or  two  caravansaries,  which 
afforded  entertainment  for  such  characters  as  our  subject.  Amongst 
the  most  noted  and  the  best  patronized  of  these  taverns,  was  one 
kept  by  an  old  woman,  known  as  Mother  Colby.  Its  euphonious 
title  was  the  “Shore  ’Nuff  Hotel,”  and  here  these  hardy  “sons  of 
Belial”  were  wont  to  congregate  nightly,  so  long  as  money  or  credit 
lasted,  making  night  hideous  with  their  bacchanalian  revels. 

When  the  gambler,  the  bar-keeper  and  the  “scarlet  woman”  had 
exhausted  their  exchequer,  they  would  procure  a horse  and,  two  or 
three  in  a squad,  would  strike  through  the  wilderness  for  Louisville 
or  Pittsburg.  Mounting  the  horse,  one  of  the  party  would  ride 
along  the  trail  for  two  hours,  the  others  following  along  on  foot.  At 
the  end  of  his  two  hours,  or  “trick,”  as  they  called  it,  this  first  one 
would  dismount  and  tie  the  horse  to  a tree,  and  continue  his  journey 
on  foot.  The  others  reaching  the  horse,  one  of  them  would  mount 
and  ride  out  his  “trick,”  and  tie  up  the  horse  for  the  last  one.  From 
this  practice  arose  the  expression  “ride  and  tie,”  so  generally 
used  in  the  West  to  designate  any  enterprise,  in  which  the  parties 
are  to  share  equally  in  the  pleasures  and  hardships. 

Occasionally  the  owner  of  some  well  built  boat,  would  want  it 
taken  back  to  be  reloaded;  in  fact  this  was  not  at  all  uncommon. 
It  was  accomplished  in  the  following  manner:  On  each  side  of  the 


I 


BILL  SEPLEY.  311 

boat’s  deck  were  planks  running  its  full  length,  and  called  “walking 
boards . ’ ’ Placing  the  ends  of  their  long  poles , called  ‘ ‘ setting  poles , ’ ’ 
on  the  bottom,  they  applied  their  shoulders  to  the  other  end,  and 
walking  from  the  bow  to  the  stern,  propelled  the  craft  against  the 
heavy  current.  In  the  lighter  stretches  of  the  current,  long  oars  or 
“sweeps”  were  substituted,  and  when,  from  too  great  depth,  too  swift 
current,  or  any  other  cause,  neither  of  these  modes  could  be  used,  a 


BILL  SEDLEY’S  FLIGHT  FROM  “THE  SWAMP.” 

long  rope  was  attached  to  the  inside  gunwale,  near  the  bow,  and 
taken  on  shore,  and  the  boat  was  dragged  along  by  this  means.  This 
method  of  propulsion  was  called  “cordelling.” 

“Natchez  Under  the  Hill”  was  the  paradise  of  these  men,  and 
going  up  or  down  the  river,  every  crew  stopped  here  for  at  least  a 
day,  and  fist  fights,  drinking,  dancing  and  other  and  more  disreputa- 
ble frolicking  filled  up  the  day  and  night.  This  town  was  the  river’s 


312 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


half-way  house,  and  it  was  one  of  the  cardinal  points  in  the  mariner’s 
creed  never  to  pass  it  without  stopping.  Here  it  was  that  a steamer, 
hearing  the  lively  crack  of  pistols,  and  the  fierce  shouts  of  enraged 
men,  rounded  in  and  witnessed  an  encounter  between  Jim  Bowie  and 
an  opponent,  each  backed  by  some  dozen  friends. 

The  ring  of  the  pistol  soon  ceased — they  had  no  revolvers  in  those 
days  of  flint  locks — and  then  the  bludgeon,  the  dirk  and  sword-cane 
did  their  silent  but  fatal  work.  Wounded  sorely  by  a pistol  ball 
through  the  thigh,  Jim  Bowie  this  day  christened,  in  his  enemies’ 
blood,  tha  knife  made  by  his  brother  Rezin,  and  came  out  of  the 
fray  winner.  It  was  at  Natchez  that  Sedley  once,  when  enraged  at 
a drunken  bully,  knocked  him  down,  caught  him  by  the  heels,  and 
spinning  around  once  or  twice,  threw  him  out  into  the  river,  a dis- 
tance of  fully  fifteen  feet.  The  man  is  said  to  have  weighed  one 
hundred  and  eighty  pounds. 

The  combat  for  which  Sedley  is  chiefly  noted,  was  fought  at  New 
Orleans,  in  the  year  1822,  and  occurred  in  the  gambling  room  of  old 
Mother  Colby’s  hotel.  The  saloon  and  gambling  rooms  were  rented 
out  by  the  old  woman  to  two  brothers,  Spaniards  from  Vera  Cruz, 
Mexico,  both  of  whom  were  known  as  desperate  men,  sure  shots  with 
pistols,  and  proficient  in  the  use  of  that  Latin  weapon,  the  knife  or 
stiletto.  On  one  of  his  visits  to  the  Cresent  City,  Sedley  confined 
his  attention  almost  exclusively  to  the  bar  of  Juan,  and  the  cards  of 
Manuel  Cortinas,  and  at  a very  early  stage  of  his  stay,  found  himself 
almost  without  money.  He  had  calculated  on  a long  series  of  bac- 
chanalian orgies,  and  to  be  pulled  up  short  in  the  midst  of  his  pleas- 
ures did  not  at  all  suit  him. 

He  expected  to  be  cheated,  but  not  so  industriously,  and  watching 
closely,  detected  Manuel  playing  too  many  cards.  At  the  time,  no 
one  save  the  two  brothers  and  Sedley  were  in  the  gambling  room, 
but  those  outside  could  plainly  hear  all  that  went  on  within. 

“I’m  a Salt  River  Roarer,”  they  heard  Sedley  yell,  “You  musn’t 
play  me  for  a spring  chicken,  you  d — d greaser,  you.  I’m  a cross 
of  a cock-eyed  alligator  and  a red-hot  snapping  turtle.  Give  up 
that  money,  you  thief,  or  down  goes  your  tabernacle.” 

Manuel  was  heard  to  deny  that  he  had  cheated,  when  Sedley 
again  roared  out : 

“You  lie,  you  nigger,  you  stole  them  cards.  Down  with  the 
dust,  or  over  goes  your  apple-cart.’  ^ 


BILL  SEDLEY.  313 

Juan  now  stepped  to  the  door  and  barred  it,  so  that  no  outsiders 
could  get  in,  and  the  brothers  prepared  to  murder  the  boatman. 
Manuel  drew  his  pistol  and  fired  at  him,  wounding  him  in  his  left 
arm,  and  with  a yell  Sedley  jumped  at  him. 

“I’m  the  catamount  of  the  Cumberland,”  he  yelled,  “I’m  the 
painter’s  (panther’s)  playmate.  Here’s  at  you — you  greaser,  you 
nigger!  ” 


DEATH  OF  THE  GAMBLER  JUAN  CORTINAS. 

What  happened  in  the  few  minutes  the  three  men  were  alone  in 
the  room,  could  only  be  guessed,  but  high  above  the  breaking  of 
chairs  and  tables  and  the  crashing  of  glass,  Sedley’ s voice  could  be 
heard : 

“Come  on  both  of  you.  I’m  the  ring-tailed  squealer.  I’m  the 
man  on  the  pale  horse — whoop — try  it  again.  I’m  the  terror  of  the 
wilderness.”  


314 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


By  degrees  all  grew  quiet  within,  and  the  gathering  crowd  were 
preparing  to  break  in  the  door,  when  they  heard  the  rattle  of  a 
chain,  the  dropping  of  a heavy  bar,  the  door  flew  open,  and  before 
them  stood  the  big  Kentuckian,  bleeding  from  two  pistol  and  half  a 
dozen  knife  wounds,  but  smiling  as  lightly  as  ever. 

“Walk  in,  gentlemen,”  he  said,  “I’m  keeping  house  now,  and 
it’s  my  treat.  The  American  eagle  has  just  winned  his  main,  and 
the  Mexican  buzzard  has  took  a back  seat.  Walk  up  to  the  bar  and 
help  yourselves,  the  Cortinas  brothers  have  just  moved  out,  and  left 
me  in  charge.  If  you  can’t  find  any  glasses,  drink  out  of  the  bottles, 
I’ll  excuse  you.” 

Stretched  across  a long,  low  table  lay  the  dead  body  of  Manuel, 
with  an  exploded  pistol  by  his  side,  and  in  his  right  hand  a sharp 
Spanish  dagger;  while  upon  the  floor  near  him,  Juan  was  gasping  in 
the  agonies  of  death.  Sedley’s  wounds  were  rather  serious,  but 
they  were  patched  up  by  a surgeon,  and  being  set  across  Lake  Pont- 
chartrain,  in  company  with  two  friends,  he  journeyed  through  to 
Kentucky,  and  never  returned.  It  is  said  that,  a few  years  after- 
wards, he  was  converted  by  Peter  Cartwright,  and  lived  to  a good 
old  age,  a consistent  Christian  and  universally  beloved. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 


THE  PIONEER  PREACHER. 


“ THE  GLAD  TIDINGS  ” THEIR  BRAVERY “ANOTHER  FOR  HECTOR” 

THEIR  INFLUENCE THE  FIRST  TEMPLES THEIR  CONGREGATIONS 

RUDE  FURNITURE A TYPICAL  PIONEER  PREACHER PETER  CART- 
WRIGHT  BIRTH  AND  YOUTH REMOVAL  TO  KENTUCKY CAMP  IN 

THE  WILDERNESS THE  INDIAN  SPY A VIGILANT  SENTINEL SUR- 
VIVOR OF  THE  INDIAN  AMBUSH MURDERED  FAMILIES RIGHTEOUS 

RETRIBUTION A HARD  YOUTH CANE  RIDGE THD  FIRST  CAMP-MEET- 
ING  STRENGTH  OF  THE  WESTERN  CHURCH JAMES  HAW  AND  BENJA- 
MIN OGLE A LAUGHABLE  OCCURRENCE THE  SLEEPER THE  TRAINED 

LAMB -THE  CHALLENGE THE  COLLISION “TAKE  UP  YOUR  CROSS” 

THE  DUTCH  DISCIPLE. 


In  the  noble  ranks  of  the  pioneers,  we  must  not  forget  to  include 
those,  who  first  carried  into  the  wilderness  “the  glad  tidings  of  great 
joy,”  and  who  at  every  risk  and  in  the  midst  of  daily  and  deadly 
perils,  pushed  forward  the  Master’s  work.  Upheld  by  no  confi- 
dence in  their  trusty  rifles ; stimulated  by  no  blood-stirring  combat, 
where  foe  met  foe  in  hand-to-hand  encounter,  and  the  fierce  pleasure 
of  mad  passions  sustained  a courage,  that  otherwise  might  droop,  these 
men  went  forth  preaching  the  gospel  of  “peace  on  earth,  good  will 
to  man.” 

Like  Him  of  old,  their  combats  were  not  with  carnal  weapons, 
but  in  the  arena  where  Christianity  met  paganism,  they  battled  with 
ignorance,  superstition  and  prejudice.  Often  repulsed,  they  returned 
again  and  again  to  the  charge,  heroes  as  brave  as  ever  faced  the 
deadly  bayonet,  or  marched  up  calmly  to  the  cannon’s  mouth  to  win 
some  outwork,  or  perish  in  its  ditch. 

Unarmed,  they  shunned  no  dangers;  unaided,  they  faced  the 
most  terrible  odds.  Theirs  was  the  cool  heroism,  that  wins  through 
force  of  mind;  not  the  infuriate  daring,  that  recklessly  opposes  force 
with  force,  and  like  the  thirsting  tiger,  conquers  or  dies  with  nerves 
distended  and  blood  on  fire  with  hate.  Theirs  was  the  heroism  of 
the  soul,  as  the  soldier’s  is  the  heroism  of  the  body,  both  admirable 
in  their  way. 


315 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


31 6 

Into  border  cabin,  frontier  fort  and  Indian  village,  they  made  their 
way,  often  opposed  by  taunts  and  jeers,  sometimes  doomed  to  hor- 
rible torture.  Neither  threats  nor  sufferings  stopped  them,  but 
when  one  fell  at  his  post,  like  Scott’s  hardy  clan  of  Highlanders, 
another  took  his  place.  As  they  rushed  on  to  certain  death  at  that 
ringing  shout:  “Another  for  Hector  ! ” so  these  heroic  missionaries 
sprang  forward,  one  after  another,  to  fill  the  gaps  in  the  ranks,  where 
others  equally  noble  had  fallen. 

It  is  due  to  the  influence  of  these  worthy  men,  that  the  passions 
of  the  pioneers,  stimulated  by  the  continual  cruelty  and  outrages  of 
their  savage  foemen,  did  not  degenerate  into  a thirst  for  revenge 
and  a barbarous  retaliation,  and  their  respect  for  these  sacred  teach- 
ings has  been  perpetuated  in  their  descendants,  along  with  a chival- 
rous courage,  and  a contempt  for  everything  base  and  mean.  A 
high  moral  tone  has  ever  pervaded  the  children  sprung  from  these 
early  settlers,  in  whose  own  lives  the  spiritual  truths  of  religion  had 
taken  deep  root. 

The  pioneer  preacher  was  often -a  man  of  little  or  no  education,  of 
uncouth  or  eccentric  ways,  but  he  was  always  hardy,  honest  and 
filled  with  the  spirit  of  his  work.  In  him  there  was  no  hypocrisy, 
and  his  rude,  but  burning  eloquence,  was  not  controlled  to  utter  only 
honied  praises  for  epicurean  hearers.  His  church  was  God’s  own 
temple;  the  gothic  arches  of  some  primeval  forest,  whose  oaken 
architraves  and  leafy  fret-work  dwarfed  into  insignificance  the  puny 
work  of  human  pigmies  in  their  temples  of  brick,  and  their  mighty 
cathedrals  of  builded  stone. 

His  congregation  was  not  a cloth  and  silk-clad  audience  of  wealthy 
burghers,  whose  ears  must  not  be  offended  by  the  denunciation  of 
pet  sins,  but  stalwart  men  and  noble  women,  clad  in  home-spun  and 
in  buckskin;  the  women  bearing  rosy  children  in  their  laps,  the  men 
with  trusty  rifles  between  their  knees. 

“There  were  giants  in  the  earth  in  those  days,”  and  the  rug- 
ged stump,  or  the  rough  hewn  log,  made  as  fastidious  a seat  as  these 
pioneers  desired,  and  unlike  some  of  our  city  congregations,  whose 
cushioned  pews  hold  only  the  sons  and  daughters  of  Epicurus,  and 
whose  ears  must  not  be  assailed  with  rough  words  of  dire  import, 
nor  their  cheeks  made  pale  by  the  denunciations  of  “scribes  and 
pharisees,”  these  hardy  borderers  listened  alike  to  anathema  as  to 


THE  PIONEER  PREACHER. 


317 


praise,  and  decorously  aimed,  amidst  all  their  trials  and  temptations, 
to  keep  to  the  line  of  duty. 

Some  of  the  scenes  at  backwoods  camp-meetings  and  revivals 
would  seem  rather  ludicrous  to  us  of  the  present  day — who,  in  this 
age  of  cynicism  and  unbelief,  seek  rather  for  the  comical  than  the 
pathetic  side  of  life — but  to  those  sturdy  people,  whose  whole  exist- 
ence was  one  continual  hardship,  there  was  a terrible  solemnity  and 
reality  about  them.  The  quaint,  eccentric,  oid  Peter  Cartright,  one 
of  the  most  conscientious  men  that  ever  lived,  has  left  us,  in  his 
autobiography,  realistic  pictures  of  these  meetings,  and  the  charac- 
ters, good  and  bad,  who  frequented  them.  A true  member  of  the 
church  militant,  he  did  not  fear  to  do  manly  battle  for  the  good,  old 
cause,  not  only  with  spiritual  arms,  but  also  with  those  of  the  flesh. 
Like  a brave,  true  hero,  he  has  concealed  nothing,  “nor  aught  set 
down  in  malice,”  but  has  pictured  in  his  strong,  yet  simple  manner, 
the  trials  and  dangers  that  beset  the  pathway  of  the  itinerant  dis- 
penser of  the  word  of  God  of  that  era,  now  almost  forgotten. 

So  much  of  preface,  though  this  portion  of  our  work  needs 
neither  introduction  nor  apology;  the  lives  and  actions  of  these 
men  speaking  for  themselves,  and  in  no  uncertain  tones. 

PETER  CARTWRIGHT. 

As  a type  of  the  pioneer  preacher,  we  have  chosen  this  well- 
known  and  eccentric  man,  for  the  reason  that  he  is  more  widely 
celebrated  than  any  of  his  fellow-laborers  upon  the  borders.  In 
his  autobiography  he  says,  that  he  was  born  in  Amherst  County, 
Virginia,  on  the  James  River,  September  1st,  1785.  His  father 
had  served  two  years  in  the  Revolutionary  war,  and  at  its  close 
moved  to  Kentucky  with  his  family.  The  road,  from  the  older 
State  to  the  new,  was  through  an  unknown  wilderness,  and  pack- 
horses  had  to  be  employed  for  transportation,  in  lieu  of  wagons  and 
carriages.  Thousands  of  Indians  still  infested  this  wilderness,  and 
it  was  necessary  to  travel  in  large  companies  as  a protection  against 
these  savages. 

The  fall  that  the  Cartwrights  moved,  there  were  two  hundred 
families  and  one  hundred  young  men  thus  united  for  mutual  pro- 
tection. The  first  Sunday  they  were  on  the  road,  they  traveled  all 
day  and  camped  early,  having  seen  several  skulking  savages.  In 
the  camp, the.women  and  children  were  placed  in  the  center;  outside 


318 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


of  them  the  married  men,  and  outside  of  these  again,  the  single 
men. 

A few  were  advanced  as  pickets,  amongst  whom  was  the  elder 
Cartwright.  In  the  night,  seeing  a dark  object  approaching,  he  fired 
on  it,  and  when  a light  was  brought,  an  Indian  was  found  dead,  rifle 
in  one  hand,  and  tomahawk  in  the  other.  The  vigilance  of  Cart- 
wright  had  saved  his  life,  and  probably  those  of  others. 

A few  days  later,  they  came  across  a solitary  white  man,  very 
badly  wounded,  who  had  just  been  in  a fight  with  the  Indians — who 
had  killed  six  of  his  comrades,  losing  five  of  their  own  number  in 
the  fight.  Arriving  one  night  within  seven  miles  of  the  Crab 
Orchard  settlements,  all  but  seven  families  determined  to  go  into 
the  fort  that  night,  as  Indians  had  been  seen  hovering  about  them 
all  day,  and  they  feared  a night  attack.  The  seven  families,  who 
determined  to  camp  where  they  were,  turned  out  their  cattle,  and 
after  supper  retired,  without  leaving  out  a single  man  as  a guard. 
In  the  night  twenty-five  warriors  rushed  into  camp  and  massacred 
every  person  there,  except  one  man,  who  escaped  almost  naked,  and 
made  his  way  to  the  fort. 

The  commander  of  the  post  was  thoroughly  versed  in  Indian  war- 
fare, and  hastening  to  the  river,  the  next  morning,  he  planted  an 
ambush,  and  the  savages  falling  into  it,  all  but  three  of  them  fell  at 
the  first  fire.  Of  these  three,  two  were  killed  in  the  pursuit,  and 
only  a single  one  escaped.  Thus  was  the  already  fertile  soil  of  Ken- 
tucky watered  with  the  blood  of  the  warring  races,  and  drenched 
with  the  tears  of  widows  and  orphans. 

At  the  time  of  Cartwright’s  settlement  in  Kentucky,  the  Metho- 
dist church  already  had  out  its  pioneers;  amongst  the  earliest  of 
whom  were  Jacob  Lurton,  John  Page  and  Benjamin  Northcut,  all 
earnest  and  powerful  men,  and  zealous  in  their  Master’s  cause.  At 
this  period,  the  nearest  mill  to  the  Cartwright’s  was  forty  miles,  and 
the  border  filled  with  thieves,  counterfeiters,  desperadoes  and 
murderers. 

Wolves  and  other  wild  beasts  abounded  in  the  forests,  and  travel  by 
night  was  unsafe  on  account  of  them.  Cartwright  used  to  tell  a tale 
of  a drunken,  old  fiddler,  who  was  on  his  way  to  play  for  a dance  in 
the  neighborhood,  and  was  treed  upon  a high  rail  fence  by  a large: 
pack  of  wolves.  So  fierce  were  they,  that  they  began  springing  up 
in  the  air  to  reach  his  dangling  feet,  when  a sudden  inspiration 


THE  PIONEER  PREACHER 


319 


occurred  to  him,  and  drawing  his  bow  across  his  fiddle,  he  delighted 
his  savage  assailants  with  the  melodious  strains  of  “Snow  Bird  on 
the  Ash  Bank,”  “Money  Musk,”  and  other  of  the  famous  old-time 
airs.  At  last  the  frolickers,  growing  impatient,  set  out  in  search  of 
him  with  lighted  torches,  and  dispersing  his  now  attentive  and 


TREED  BY  WOLVES. 


respectful  audience,  rescued  him  from  his  elevated  position,  and  had 
their  ball. 

Sunday  was  regularly  set  apart  for  horse  racing,  card  playing, 
balls  and  parties.  After  the  patience  of  the  honest  people  had  been 


320 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


worn  out,  they  formed  the  inevitable  vigilance  committee,  or  regula- 
tors, and  the  two  factions  met  in  Russellville,  and  fought  a pitched 
battle;  in  which  several  on  each  side  were  killed,  many  wounded,  and 
the  rogues  left  masters  of  the  field.  On  a second  trial  of  strength, 
the  regulators  came  out  ahead,  and  by  lynching,  banishing  and  lash- 
ing, considerably  purified  the  moral  atmosphere. 

According  to  Cartwright’s  own  story,  he  was  about  as  hard  a boy 
as  he  well  could  be,  and  equipped  with  a fast  horse  and  a deck  of 
cards,  was  making  considerable  progress  on  the  road  to  ruin,  when, 
through  the  influence  of  his  mother,  he  was  turned  away  from  his 
evil  course,  and  burning  his  cards,  discarding  his  race  horse,  and 
swearing  off  from  his  debased  associates,  he  joined  the  church,  and 
became  a better  man. 

The  account  of  the  first  “camp  meeting”  ever  held  in  the  United 
States,  is  thus  described  in  his  own  words:  “Somewhere  between 
1800  and  1801,  in  the  upper  part  of  Kentucky,  at  a memorable 
place,  called  ‘Cane  Ridge,’  there  was  appointed  a sacramental 
meeting,  by  some  of  the  Presbyterian  ministers,  at  which  meeting, 
seemingly  unexpected  by  ministers  or  people,  the  mighty  power  of 
God  was  displayed  in  a very  extraordinary  manner;  many  were 
moved  to  tears,  and  bitter  and  loud  crying  for  mercy.  The  meeting 
was  protracted  for  weeks.  Ministers  of  almost  all  denominations 
flocked  in  from  far  and  near.  The  meeting  was  kept  up  by  night 
and  day. 

“Thousands  heard  of  the  mighty  work,  and  came  on  foot,  on  horse- 
back, in  carriages  and  wagons.  It  was  supposed  that  there  were  in 
attendance  at  times,  during  the  meetings,  from  twelve  to  twen- 
ty-five thousand  people.  Hundreds  fell  prostrate  under  the  mighty 
power  of  God,  as  men  slain  in  battle.  Stands  were  erected  in 
the  woods,  from  which  preachers  of  different  churches  proclaimed 
repentance  toward  God,  and  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  it 
was  supposed  by  eye  and  ear  witnesses,  that  between  one  and  two 
thousand  souls  were  happily  and  powerfully  converted  to  God  during 
the  meeting. 

“It  was  not  unusual  for  one,  two,  three  and  four  to  seven  preachers 
to  be  addressing  the  listening  thousands  at  the  same  time,  from  the 
different  stands  erected  for  the  purpose.  The  heavenly  fire  spread 
in  almost  every  direction.  It  was  said,  by  truthful  witnesses,  that 


THE  PIONEER  PREACHER. 


321 


at  times  more  than  one  thousand  persons  broke  out  into  loud  shouting, 
all  at  once,  and  that  the  shouts  could  be  heard  for  miles  around. 

“From  this  camp-meeting,  for  so  it  ought  to  be  called,  the  news 
spread  through  all  the  churches  and  through  all  the  land,  and  it 
excited  great  wonder  and  surprise:  but  it  kindled  a religious  flame, 
that  spread  all  over  Kentucky,  and  through  many  other  States.  And 
I may  here  be  permitted  to  say  that  this  was  the  first  camp  meeting 
ever  held  in  the  United  States,  and  here  our  camp  meetings  took 
their  rise.” 

According  to  this  authority,  the  first  conference  in  the  West  was 
held  in  Kentucky  in  1789.  In  1787  the  Methodist  church,  west  of 
the  Alleghanies,  had  ninety  members  and  five  traveling  preachers, 
and  the  first  bishop,  that  ever  visited  them,  was  Bishop  Asbury,  in 
1787.  In  1801,  the  year  in  which  Cartwright  joined  the  church,  the 
entire  Western  Conference,  which  covered  about  all  the  settled  parts 
of  Kentucky  and  the  Mississippi  valley,  contained  but  two  thousand, 
four  hundred  and  eighty-four  members,  and  fifteen  preachers.  In  all 
America  there  were  only  seventy-two  thousand,  eight  hundred  and 
seventy-four  Methodists,  and  in  the  world,  one  hundred  and  ninety- 
six  thousand,  five  hundred  and  two.  The  two  first  itinerants  sent 
West,  were  James  Haw  and  Benjamin  Ogle,  sent  to  Kentucky 
in  1786. 

Notwithstanding  the  able  mind  and  thorough  reverence  of  our 
pioneer  preacher,  there  was  a strong  vein  of  humor  pervading  his 
composition,  as  several  anecdotes,  which  he  gives,  will  show.  In 
one  place  he  says:  “To  show  the  ignorance  the  early  Methodist 
preachers  had  to  contend  with  in  the  western  wilds,  I will  relate  an 
incident  or  two  that  occurred  to  Wilson  Lee  in  Kentucky. 

“He  was  one  of  the  early  pioneer  Methodist  preachers  sent  to  the 
West.  He  was  a very  solemn  and  grave  minister.  At  one  of  his 
appointments,  at  a private  house,  on  a certain  day,  they  had  a 
motherless  pet  lamb.  The  boys  of  the  family  had  mischievously 
learned  this  lamb  to  butt.  They  would  go  near  it  and  make  motions 
with  their  heads,  and  the  lamb  would  back  and  then  dart  forward  at 
them,  and  they  would  jump  out  of  the  way,  so  that  the  sheep  would 
miss  them. 

“A  man  came  into  the  congregation,  who  had  been  drinking  and 
frolicking  all  the  night  before.  lie  came  in  late,  and  took  his  seat 
on  the  end  of  the  bench,  nearly  in  the  door,  and  having  slept  none 


322 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


the  night  before,  presently  he  began  to  nod,  and  as  he  nodded  and 
bent  forward,  the  pet  lamb  came  along  by  the  door,  and  seeing  this 
man  nodding  and  bending  forward,  he  took  it  as  a banter,  and 
straightway  backed  and  then  sprang  forward  and  gave  the  sleeper  a 
severe  jolt  right  on  the  head,  and  over  he  tilted  him,  to  the  no  small 
amusement  of  the  congregation,  who  all  burst  out  into  laughter,  and 
grave  as  the  preacher,  Mr.  Lee,  was,  it  so  excited  his  risibilities  that 
he  almost  lost  his  balance.  But  recovering  himself  a little,  he  went 
on  in  a most  solemn  and  impressive  strain. 

“His  subject  was;  ‘Except  a man  deny  himself,  and  take  up  his 
cross,  he  cannot  be  my  disciple.’  He  urged  on  his  congregation, 
with  melting  voice  and  tearful  eyes,  to  take  up  the  cross;  no  matter 
what  it  was,  take  it  up.  In  the  congregation  was  an  ignorant 
Dutchman  and  his  scolding  wife,  and  both  were  wonderfully  affected 
by  the  sermon.  They  prayed,  wept  and  resolved  to  lead  a better 
life.  After  the  meeting  had  been  dismissed,  the  preacher  lingered 
awhile,  talking  to  some  of  the  members,  and  then  started  home. 

“He  had  gone  but  short  distance  on  his  way,  when,  ahead  of  him, 
he  beheld  a man  staggering  along  under  the  heavy  burden  of  a 
large  fat  woman.  When  he  overtook  them,  he  was  surprised  to  find 
the  Dutchman  and  his  wife,  whom  he  knew  to  be  sound  and  well. 
Asking  the  meaning  of  the  strange  proceeding,  he  found  that  the 
Dutchman  was  trying  to  carry  out  literally  the  words  of  the  text, 
and  was  then  engaged  in  bearing  his  greatest  cross.  In  a few  words 
the  good  man  showed  them  the  true  path  to  peace,  and  both  becamo 
firm  and  earnest  members  of  the  church.” 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 


PETER  CARTWRIGHT. 


THE  “JERKS” A STRANGE  AFFECTION ITS  TREATMENT A BELIEVER  IN 

VOODOO THREATENED  VENGEANCE PUT  TO  FLIGHT KILLED  BY  THE 

JERKS THE  FLYING  JEW CARTWRIGHT'S  FLOOD THE  PHYSICIAN 

CONVINCED A TWO-SIDED  ILLUSTRATION THE  CITY  PREACHER 

GENERAL  JACKSON  IN  CHURCH CARTWRIGHT’S  RETORT ON  A TRIP 

FINDS  A PISTOL ADVENTURE  WITH  A HIGHWAYMAN THE  ROBBER 

DISMAYED THE  TOLL-GATE  BULLY FINDS  THE  WRONG  MAN THE 

FRIGHTENED  NEGRO THROUGH  THE  GATE THE  FURIOUS  LANDLORD 

CARTWRIGHT  INCENSED CATCHING  A TARTAR. 


Of  “the  jerks ” — that  singular  nervous  affection,  which  often 
seized  on  attendants  at  these  meetings,  and  whose  phenomena  sci- 
ence hardly  accounts  for,  since  they  seized,  (if  we  may  credit  Cart- 
wright’s statements,)  the  non-sympathetic  and  sceptic,  in  preference 
to  the  enthusiastic,  and  alike  affected  strong  men  and  hysterical 
women — he  gives  this  account : “Just  in  the  midst  of  our  contro- 
versies on  the  subject  of  the  powerful  exercises  amongst  the  people, 
under  preaching,  a new  exercise  broke  out  among  us,  called  the 
jerks , which  was  overwhelming  in  its  effects  upon  the  bodies  and 
minds  of  the  people. 

“No  matter  whether  they  were  saints  or  sinners,  they  would  be 
taken,  under  a warm  song  or  sermon,  and  seized  with  a convulsive 
jerking  all  over,  which  they  could  not,  by  any  possibility,  avoid, 
and  the  more  they  resisted,  the  more  they  jerked.  If  they  would 
not  strive  against  it,  and  pray  in  good  earnest,  the  jerking  would 
usually  abate.  I have  seen  more  than  five  hundred  persons  jerking 
at  one  time,  in  my  large  congregations. 

“Most  usually  persons  taken  with  the  jerks,  to  obtain  relief,  as  they 
said,  would  rise  up  and  dance.  Some  would  run,  but  could  not  get 
away.  Some  would  resist;  on  such  the  jerks  were  generally  very 
severe.  To  see  these  proud  young  gentlemen  and  ladies,  dressed  in 
their  silks,  jewelry,  and  prunella,  from  top  to  toe,  take  the  jerks , 
would  often  excite  my  risibilities.  The  first  jerk  or  so,  you  would 
see  their  fine  bonnets,  caps  and  combs  fly,  and  so  sudden  would  be 

323 


324 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


the  jerking  of  the  head,  that  their  long,  loose  hair,  would  crack 
almost  as  loud  as  a wagoner’s  whip.” 

At  one  of  his  meetings,  the  Kentucky  boy — as  Cartwright  w7as 
then  called — feeling  unwell,  had  recourse  to  a small  bottle  of  pepper- 
mint, that  he  carried  in  his  pocket.  During  his  sermon,  two  fash- 
ionably dressed  young  ladies  took  the  jerks,  and  their  two  brothers 
attributing  it  to  the  voudoo  medicine  the  preacher  had  used,  swore 
to  horse-whip  him.  The  sermon  over,  Cartwright  was  duly 


PETER  CARTWRIGHT. 


informed,  and  going  to  the  brothers,  endeavored  to  explain  to  them, 
but  they  would  not  hear  him,  upon  which,  drawing  his  vial, Cartwright 
said:  “Well,  if  I gave  your  sisters  the  jerks,  I’ll  give  them  to 
you,  too,”  and  starting  toward  them,  soon  had  them  in  full  flight. 
Before  their  final  eradication,  these  jerks  ran  into  involuntary  howl- 
ing, barking,  jumping,  running,  and  gesturing;  people  fell  in  fits 
and  trances;  many  saw  visions,  and  lay  for  days  without  motion. 


PETER  CARTWRIGHT 


325 


It  was  one  of  the  most  singular  of  all  the  nervous  epidemics,  that 
the  world  has  ever  seen. 

One  more  incident,  and  we  will  pass  to  other  subjects.  Cart- 
wright says,  that  he  knew  the  following  incident  to  have  occurred 
during  a camp-meeting  on  “the  Ridge,”  in  William  Magee’s  con- 
gregation: “A  lot  of  drunken  rowdies,  headed  by  a large,  powerful 
man,  had  gathered  to  interrupt  the  meeting.  They  had  their  bottles 
of  whisky  along,  and  having  got  up  steam,  the  leader  began  to  curse 
religion,  and  defy  the  jerks.  Just  then  he  was  seized  with  them. 

“Endeavoring  to  run,  he  was  unable  to  do  so,  but  drawing  his  bot- 
tle, he  swore  he’d  drink  the  d d jerks  to  death.  He  was  unable 

to  get  the  bottle  to  his  mouth,  and  finally,  in  the  midst  of  his  vio- 
lent efforts,  he  struck  the  bottle  against  a tree  and  broke  it.  At 
this  he  became  greatly  enraged,  and  poured  forth  a torrent  of  pro- 
fanity, during  which  a violent  jerk  seized  him,  snapped  his  neck, 
and  falling,  he  expired.” 

Cartwright’s  method  with  unbelievers  was  unique,  but  success- 
ful. At  one  time  a Jew  urged  that  it  was  idolatry  to  pray  to  Christ 
and  that  God  would  never  answer  such  prayer. 

“Do  you  really  believe  there  is  a God?  ” asked  Cartwright. 

“Yes,  Ido,”  said  he. 

“Do  you  believe  that  God  will  hear  your  prayers?  ” 

“Yes,”  said  he. 

“Well,  now,  my  dear  sir,”  said  Cartwright,  “Let  us  test  this 
matter.  If  you  are  in  earnest,  get  down  here  and  pray  to  God  to 
stop  this  work,  and  if  it  is  wrong,  he  will  answer  your  petition  and 
stop  it;  if  it  is  not  wrong,  all  hell  cannot  stop  it.” 

The  Jew,  after  a feeble  attempt  at  prayer,  fled  from  the  scene. 

In  Illinois,  a New  Light  preacher,  as  they  were  then  called,  but 
now  denominated  Christians,  Reformers',  Disciples  and  Campbell- 
ites,  attempted  to  get  up  a laugh  on  the  shrewd  old  Methodist. 
Said  he,  after  a very  heavy  rain: 

“Good  morning,  Mr.  Cartwright.” 

“Good  morning,  Mr.  Roads,”  said  Cartwright,  “We’ve  had  a 
tremendous  rain?” 

“Yes  sir,”  said  he,  “The  Lord  sent  that  rain  to  convince  you  of 
your  error.” 

“Ah,”  said  Cartwright,  “What  error?” 

“Why  about  baptism ; the  Lord  sent  this  flood  to  convince  you 
that  much  water  was  necessary  J,’ 


326 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


‘•Very  good,  sir,”  said  Cartwright,  “And  he  in  like  manner  sent 
this  flood  to  convince  you  of  your  error.” 

“What  error?”  said  he. 

“Why,  to  show  you  that  water  comes  by  pouring,  not  immersion,” 
answered  the  Methodist. 

At  another  time,  a physician  in  Tennessee,  a man  of  culture,  hon- 
esty and  moral  conduct,  told  the  old  pioneer,  that  while  he  believed 
that  the  Christian  religion  had  made  the  conduct  of  man  better,  yet 
he  thought  it  was  a humbug.  Asked  if  he  believed  in  a God,  he 
said,  “Yes.”  Asked  if  he  believed  in  His  wisdom,  justice  and 
mercy,  be  replied,  “Certainly.”  Cartwright  then  asked  him  how 
be  accounted  for  this  wise  and  merciful  Creator  bringing  into 
the  world  a race  of  beings  to  live,  suffer  and  die,  cursed  from  their 
very  birth  with  sin. 

'*  “This,”  said  the  doctor,  “Was  a mystery  he  could  not  solve.” 
.Cartwright  asked  him  if  he  did  not  think,  that  these  very  conditions 
were  necessary  to  the  death  of  this  creature,  and  also  necessary  to 
cause  it  to  turn  to  some  such  stay,  as  the  Bible,  for  relief  and  guid- 
ance. The  doctor’s  answer  to  this  was  unsatisfactory,  and  he  was 
then  requested  to  state  his  grounds  of  unbelief. 

“Well,  sir,  said  he,  “All  knowledge  depends  upon  evidence,  does 
it  not  ? ’ ’ 

“Yes,  sir,”  said  Cartwright. 

“All  faith,  then,  depends  on  evidence?  ” 

“Yes,  sir.” 

“Well,”  said  the  doctor,  “suppose  you  were  upon  a jury,  and 
were  called  on  to  decide  a case,  in  which  five  witnesses  gave  testi- 
mony; each  of  these  witnesses  being  honest,  honorable  and  incapable 
of  falsity,  and  one  of  these  witnesses  swears  that  the  plaintiff  is 
right,  while  the  other  four  depose  to  the  truth  of  defendant’s  cause, 
now  which  way  would  your  verdict  be?” 

“In  such  a case,”  said  Cartwright,  “My  verdict  would  be  for 
the  defense.” 

“Very  well,  sir,  said  the  doctor,  “Now  you  claim  that  a Christian 
has  full  evidence  of  his  faith,  and  this  he  can,  as  you  will  admit, 
have  only  through  his  five  senses.  Now  I ask  you  to  answer  me 
honestly  yes,  or  no,  did  you  ever  see  religion?  ” . 

“No.” 

“Did  you  ever  hear  religion?  ” 

“No.” 


PETER  CARTWRIGHT. 


327 


“Did  you  ever  smell  religion?” 

“No.” 

“Did  you  ever  taste  religion?  ” 

“No.” 

“Did  you  ever  feel  religion?  ” 

“Yes.” 

Well,”  said  the  doctor,  “You  see  there  are  four  witnesses  against 
your  one,  so  you  must  give  in.” 

The  shrewd  Cartwright  saw  the  error  of  the  doctor’s  reasoning, 
but  he  determined  to  let  it  stand,  since  it  enabled  him  to  convince 
his  opponent,  that  it  would  not  do  to  depend  upon  such  fallacies; 
which,  however  ingenious  they  may  be,  are  neither  logical  nor 
conclusive. 

“Doctor,”  said  the  preacher,  “are  you  willing  to  have  your  prac- 
tice of  medicine  tested  by  the  same  standard  you  apply  to  my 
religion  ? ’ ’ 

“I  am,  sir,”  replied  the  physician. 

“Well,  sir,”  said  Cartwright,  a good-humored  twinkle  in  his  keen 
eyes,  “you  pretend  to  understand  medicine,  pretend  to  have  effected 
cures,  and  by  receiving  money  for  them  have  amassed  a fortune;  is 
that  not  so  ? ” 

“It  is,”  said  the  doctor. 

“Then,”  said  Cartwright,  “you  area  miserable  imposter  and  your 

practice  is  a pitiful  quackery ’ ’ “Hold  on ; don’t  get  excited ; I’m 

going  to  prove  it  by  your  unimpeachable  witnesses,  if  you  will  answer 
me  as  honestly  as  I did  you.  Did  you  ever  feel  a cure?  ” 

“No.” 

“Did  you  ever  hear  a cure?  ” 

“No.” 

“Did  you  ever  taste  a cure?  ” 

“No.” 

“Did  you  ever  smell  a cure?  ” 

“No.” 

“Did  you  ever  see  a cure?  ” 

“Yes.” 

The  truth  was  brought  home  to  the  doctor,  after  he  had  first  been 
shown  the  error  of  his  arguments,  and  the  weakness  of  his  dependence 
upon  his  morality,  and  Cartwright  left  him  thoroughly  converted. 

These  pioneers  of  the  backwoods  and  of  the  prairies  were  fearless 
fieroes,  and  no  respecters  of  persons,  as  the  following  incident  will 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


528 

prove:  At  one  of  the  General  Conferences  in  Nashville,  Cartwright 
was  assigned  to  a certain  church  to  preach,  and  having  taken  his 
text,  he  was  proceeding  to  expound  it  to  the  people  when  General 
Jackson  came  in,  and  finding  the  seats  all  filled,  leaned  against  a 
pillar  and  listened.  A city  preacher,  sitting  in  the  pulpit,  pulled  at 
Cartwright’s  coat,  in  full  view  of  the  congregation,  and  whispered  to 
him,  “that’s  General  Jackson,  who  has  just  come  in — that’s  General 
Jackson.” 

“And  who  is  General  Jackson?  ” said  Cartwright  to  him,  with  an 
indignant  roar;  “If  he  don’t  get  his  soul  converted,  God  will  damn 
him  as  quick  as  He  would  a Guinea  negro  ! ” and  he  went  on  with 
his  sermon.  Shrinking  out  of  sight,  the  city  preacher  took  the 
earliest  opportunity  to  tell  him  that  Jackson  would  be  certain  to 
thrash  him.  Nothing  daunted,  Cartwright  told  him  that  was  a game 
two  could  play  at,  and  the  next  day  met  “Old  Hickory,”  who 
expressed  his  approbation  of  the  preacher’s  fearless  independence. 

On  one  of  his  trips  with  another  preacher,  a Mr.  Walker,  he  found 
a pistol  in  the  road,  which  he  supposed  belonged  to  some  movers 
they  had  met  that  morning.  “This  looks  providential,”  said  he, 
for  the  mountain  road  they  were  traveling  was  infested  with  robbers, 
and  many  murders  had  been  committed.  Just  as  the  sun  was  setting 
that  evening,  and  they  were  approaching  the  foot  of  the  mountains, 
they  overtook  a man  limping  slowly  along.  In  his  hand  was  a very 
heavy  stick,  which  he  was  using  as  a cane,  but  which  in  reality  was 
a very  formidable  club. 

As  they  rode  up  the  man  hailed  them,  told  them  he  was  very  lame, 
and  begged  that  they  would  let  him  ride  awhile.  To  this  Mr. 
Walker,  a very  tender-hearted  old  man,  replied  at  once,  “Oh,  yes,” 
and  was  preparing  to  dismount,  when  Cartwright,  from  some 
intuition  that  the  fellow  was  shamming,  told  him  to  keep  on  his 
horse,  that  they  had  a long  journey  to  make  and  it  was  best  to  trust 
no  one,  and  they  trotted  on  without  looking  back. 

All  at  once,  as  they  neared  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  Cartwright’s 
horse,  which  was  in  the  rear,  gave  a sudden  start  and  bounded  ahead, 
and  looking  over  his  shoulder,  he  saw  the  pretended  lame  man 
coming  on  at  a swift  run,  no  doubt  hoping  to  knock  him  from  his 
horse.  Wheeling  swiftly,  Cartwright  cocked  the  pistol  and  rushed 
at  the  fellow,  who  took  to  the  brush  on  the  roadside  and  escaped. 

At  the  Crab  Orchard  toll-gate,  the  two  men  who  kept  the  gate, 
also  kept  a tavern,  and  as  Cartwright  and  his  companion  were  tired, 


RETER  CARTWRIGHT. 


329 


on  reaching  that  point  they  concluded  to  stop  for  the  night.  Night 
and  morning  they  had  services  of  prayer,  and  after  ascertaining  the 
amount  of  their  bill,  Cartwright  drew  out  his  pocket-book  and  offered 
good  bills  to  the  amount.  Whether  the  landlord  hoped  to  intimi- 
date him,  having  found  out  that  he  was  a preacher,  or  whether 
he  intended  to  raise  ’a  quarrel,  in  order  to  rob  him,  as  he  had 
exposed  several  hundred  dollars  in  bank  notes,  the  preacher  never 
knew,  but  the  bully  immediately  demanded  silver,  and  swore  he 
would  have  it. 

At  this  Mr.  Walker  tried  to  pacify  him,  but  this  only  enraged  the 
fellow  the  more.  Cartwright,  seeing  that  he  would  not  listen  to 
reason,  and  having  no  idea  of  tamely  submitting  to  robbery,  laid 
tfown  the  amount  in  bills,  telling  the  landlord  he  could  take  it  or  not 
as  he  pleased,  and  mounting  his  horse,  he  told  Mr.  Walker  to  do  the 
same,  and  they  started  toward  the  gate.  The  landlord  called  to  a 
negro  to  close  the  gate  and  lock  it,  but  Cartwright  spurred  up  to 
the  gate,  and  raising  his  heavy  whip,  told  the  negro  if  he  touched 
it  he’d  knock  him  down,  and  then  calling  to  Mr.  Walker,  they  both 
rode  through.  The  landlord  started  for  his  pistols,  swearing  he’d 
follow  them,  but  Cartwright,  whose  blood  was  now  up,  told  him 
very  cooly  to  come  on,  as  soon  as  he  got  ready,  and  the  bully  retired 
into  the  house.  Those  who  picked  Peter  Cartwright  up  for  a non- 
combatant,  when  he  had  justice  and  honor  on  his  side,  soon  dropped 
him,  for  they  always  caught  a tartar. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 


PIONEER  INCIDENTS. 


A STEAMBOAT  TRIP THE  OLD  “VELOCIPEDE” CARTWRIGHT’S  COMPANION 

UNTIMELY  ZEAL MAJOR  BIDDLE KILLING  TIME CAPTAIN 

WATERS PROPOSAL  FOR  DEBATE DISPUTED  AUTHORITIES WATERS 

LOSES  HIS  TEMPER THE  ROW CARTWRIGHT'S  CHAMPION FAST 

FRIENDS A “CLOSE*’  BROTHER A MISER  REPROVED PROUD  PREACH- 
ERS  THE  REFORM AN  ILLINOIS  XANTIPPE A KIND  HUSBAND 

CARTWRIGHT’S  VISIT A NICE  CHRISTIAN EJECTED BEGS  TO  ENTER 

REPENTANT PLAIN  WORDS SOUNDLY  CONVERTED OPINION  OF 

“HOT-HOUSE  PREACHERS'’ A JOKE  AT  HIS  OWN  EXPENSE DESCRIP- 

TION OF  THE  PIONEER  PREACHER. 


Cartwright  and  a fellow-preacher  took  passage  on  a steamer  at 
St.  Louis,  hound  for  Pittsburg,  to  attend  a General  Conference 
held  in  that  city.  On  board  was  the  motley  crowd,  that  the  steamers 
of  that  day  invariably  carried;  these  were  merchants,  drovers, 
thieves,  gamblers,  horsemen,  soldiers,  officers;  in  fact,  nearly  all 
grades  in  life  were  represented  in  this  miniature  floating  world. 
After  they  left  the  levee,  the  fiddling,  drinking,  swearing  and 
gaming  began,  and  the  cabin  of  the  old  “Velocipede”  was  an  ani- 
mated scene. 

Cartwright’s  companion,  a Mr.  Thompson,  seems  to  have  been  a 
nervous,  fidgety  sort  of  person,  and  gave  him  a great  deal  of  trou- 
ble, but  at  last  Peter  succeeded  in  quenching  his  untimely  zeal.  At 
the  mouth  of  the  Ohio,  a Captain  Waters  came  on  board,  armed 
and  equipped  with  a new  fiddle  and  a deck  of  cards,  and  the  gamb- 
ling and  frolicking  received  a new  impetus.  Major  Biddle,  an 
accomplished  gentlemen,  but  a confirmed  infidel,  was  on  the  boat. 
He  afterward  fell  in  a duel  on  Bloody  Island,  at  St.  Louis.  A 
Lieutenant  Barker,  of  the  regular  army,  was  also  on  the  boat  during 
this  trip. 

Going  up  to  the  table,  where  a number  of  them  were  gambling, 
Cartwright  looked  on,  and  they  began  talking  to  him,  informing  him 
Aiiat  they  were  “only  playing  to  kill  time.”  To  this  Cartwright 
replied,  that  that  being  the  case,  it  would  be  better  if  they  would 

330 


PIONEER  INCIDENTS. 


331 


converse  together,  so  that  all  might  get  the  benefit  of  their  mutual 
information ; that  it  looked  selfish  for  a few  men  to  monopolize  all 
the  amusement,  when  the  time  could  be  made  pleasant  to  all. 

To  this  Captain  Waters  replied  that  he  was  an  infidel,  and  that  if 
Cartwright  would  debate  with  him  on  the  Christian  religion,  the  gamb- 
ling should  stop.  Cartwright  objected  to  this,  that  the  captain  had 
an  advantage  over  him,  and  being  asked  what  it  was,  replied  that  he 
swore.  To  this  Waters  promised  that  he  would  use  no  profane  lan- 
guage, and  the  debate  opened  with  a great  flourish,  by  the  captain, 
In  answer  to  him,  Cartwright  made  some  allusion  to  the  Bible, 
when  his  antagonist  told  him  that  he  didn’t  allow  that  mass  of 
fables  and  lies  to  be  quoted  as  an  authority.  “All  right,  sir,”  said 
Cartwright,  and  proceeded  with  his  argument. 

In  the  captain’s  next  oration  he  quoted  Tom  Paine,  when  Cart- 
wright immediately  stopped  him,  and  told  him  that  no  such  degraded 
witness  as  that  could  be  used  in  the  argument. 

At  this  Waters,  who  from  the  first  had  the  worst  of  the  debate, 
flew  into  a passion  and  began  a volley  of  horrible  oaths,  when  this 
member  of  the  church  militant  took  him  by  the  chin,  and  shook  him 
till  his  teeth  rattled. 

A fight  was  now  imminent,  when  Lieutenant  Barker,  a perfect 
lover  of  fair  play,  interposed  and  said:  “Stand  back,  Cartwright; 
you  can  beat  him  in  argument,  and  I can  whip  him.  If  there’s  any 
fighting  to  be  done,  I’m  his  man  from  the  point  of  a needle  to  the 
mouth  of  a cannon.  He  pledged  his  word  not  to  swear,  he  has  for- 
feited his  honor,  and  is  no  gentleman.” 

Cartwright  now  interfered  to  prevent  bloodshed,  and  after 
awhile  all  was  quieted,  and  strange  to  say  not  only  Barker,  but 
Waters  became  his  fast  friend,  and  the  latter  insisted,  on  his  arrival 
at  Louisville,  that  the  preacher  should  accept  his  hospitality. 

Cartwright’s  account  of  a “close”  Illinois  brother,  is  as  follows: 
At  one  place  he  preached  by  appointment  in  the  cabin  of  this  brother, 
who  had,  as  he  takes  pains  to  inform  us,  over  three  hundred  dollars 
hoarded  up  a considerable  sum  of  money  for  those  days.  The  house 
had  one  chair,  called  the  preacher’s  chair.  The  bottom  of  this  was 
worn  out,  the  back  weak,  and  it  was  generally  debilitated;  the  table 
was  a hewed  puncheon,  with  four  sticks  for  legs ; the  hearth  was 
of  earth. 


332 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


On  the  table  wooden  trenchers  served  as  plates,  sharp  pointed 
pieces  of  cane  for  forks;  there  were  two  knives,  one  a butcher's 
knife,  the  other  an  old  case  knife  with  the  handle  off.  Tin  cups  were 
used  instead  of  the  stoneware  articles.  For  beds,  four  forks  were 
driven  into  the  ground,  poles  laid  across  them,  and  these  covered  with 
clap-boards.  On  this  bedstead  the  tick  and  covers  were  made  up. 

Determined  to  reprove  the  miser,  Cartwright,  who  hated  every- 
thing sordid  and  mean,  began  praising  his  family,  and  advised  him 
to  give  them  a chance,  by  improving  their  surroundings.  He  told 
him  to  get  some  furniture,  beds,  tables,  and  such  things  as  were 
absolute  necessities.  At  this  the  old  miser  fairly  writhed,  and  unable 
to  bear  it  longer,  told  him  he’d  seen  proud  preachers  before;  that  he 
knew  he  was  proud  the  minute  he  saw  his  broadcloth  coat,  and  told 
him  he  didn’t  want  him  to  meddle  in  his  affairs. 

Cartwright  explained  to  him  that  common  decency  demanded 
these  things;  that  had  he  been  poor,  he  would  have  said  nothing,  but 
that  it  was  against  his  profession  of  religion  to  thus  make  a god  of 
money,  and  live  like  a hog.  The  miser,  in  answer  to  this  blast, 
grunted  out  that  if  his  fare  and  surroundings  did  not  suit  the 
minister,  he  needn’t  come  to  his  cabin. 

Cartwright  saw  that  the  women  of  the  family  were  on  his  side, 
and  he  didn’t  doubt  but  that  they  would  keep  the  leaven  fermenting, 
and  sure  enough,  on  his  next  return,  he  found  everything  neat  and 
tidy;  the  women  in  new  dresses,  and  the  cabin  plainly  but  comfort- 
ably furnished. 

Another  Illinois  family  is  thus  described : The  husband  was  a 
local  preacher;  a small,  weak,  but  thoroughly  good  man;  his  wife,  a 
strapping  virago  of  the  Xantippe  type,  and  from  Cartwright’s  des- 
cription, fully  a match  for  the  female,  whom  Socrates  had  accepted 
as  a cultivator  of  his  patience  and  equanimity.  Many  preachers  had 
visited  this  brother,  to  try  and  moderate  her  demonism,  but  all  to 
no  purpose,  until  the  indomitable  Peter  undertook  the  task. 

After  supper,  her  husband  spoke  to  her  kindly,  and  asked  her  to 
cease  her  labors  until  they  could  have  prayer. 

“I  wo’nt  have  any  of  your  praying  about  me,”  she  answered. 
Cartwright  expostulated  with  her,  when  she  turned  loose  the  vials 
of  her  wrath,  and  cursed  him  soundly.  To  this  Cartwright,  looking 
very  sternly  at  her,  told  her  that,  if  she  were  his  wife,  he’d  break 
her  of  such  ways,  or  break  her  neck.” 


PIONEER  INCIDENTS. 


333 


“The  devil  you  would,”  said  she,  “You’re  a nice  Christian,  ain’t 
you?”  and  again  she  began  cursing  him.  Cartwright  now  told  her 
firmly  that  she  must  be  quiet,  that  he  intended  to  have  prayer,  and 
that  he  would  have  it,  if  he  had  first  to  put  her  out  of  the  door. 

At  this  she  raved,  rolled  up  her  sleeves,  swore  she  was  of  that 
untamable  breed,  half  alligator  and  half  snapping-turtle,  and  told 
him  it  would  take  a better  man  than  he  ever  was,  to  put  her  out. 
At  once  he  seized  and  after  a short  struggle  ejected  her,  and 
barred  the  door.  He  then  began  singing  a hymn,  while  she  roared 
and  raved,  and  swore  around  the  house,  and  her  terrified  children 
crawled  under  the  bed. 

Finding  that  there  was  no  give  in  about  the  old  pioneer,  and  hav- 
ing raved  herself  hoarse,  she  came  to  the  door  and  asked  Cartwright 
to  “please  let  her  in.”  He  asked  her  if  she  would  behave,  and  say- 
ing she  would,  he  let  her  enter. 

Seating  herself  quietly,  she  now  said:  “Oh,  what  a fool  I’ve 
been.” 

“Yes,”  said  old  Peter  cooly,  “About  the  biggest  fool  I ever  saw 
in  all  my  life — and  now  you  will  have  to  repent  for  all  of  this,  or 
go  to  the  devil  at  last.” 

Of  this  woman  he  says,  in  his  autobiography:  “Although  this 
was  one  of  the  hardest  cases  I ever  saw  on  this  earth,  I must  record 
it,  to  the  glory  of  Divine  grace,  I lived  to  see,  in  less  than  six 
months  after  this  frolic  with  the  devil,  this  woman  soundly  conver- 
ted to  God.” 

Speaking  of  a preacher,  educated  in  a theological  seminary,  old 
Peter  says:  “He  was  a very  well  educated  man,  and  had  regularly 
studied  theology  in  some  of  the  Eastern  States,  where  they  manufac- 
ture young  preachers  like  they  do  lettuce  in  hot-houses.” 

Even  at  his  own  expense  he  relished  a joke.  In  crossing  a ford 
on  Eock  Eiver,  he  missed  the  safe  track,  and  striking  a slippery 
rock,  his  horse  fell.  He  says:  “My  saddle  turned,  off  I went,  and 
the  first  thing  I knew  I saw  my  saddle-bags  floating  down  with 
great  rapidity,  for  the  water  ran  very  swift.  I had  a tight  race, 
but  overtook  them  before  they  sank,  so  as  to  disappear. 

“They  were  pretty  well  filled  with  water.  My  books  and  clothes 
had  all  turned  Campbellites,  for  there  was  much  water;  and  I 
escaped,  not  by  the  skin  of  my  teeth,  but  by  the  activity  of  my 
heels.  My  horse  rose,  and  with  all  the  calmness  of  old  Diogenes, 
waded  out,  and  left  me  to  do  the  same.  Brother  Summers  could  no 


334 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


maintain  his  usual  gravity,  but  I assure  you  all  his  fun  was  at  my 

expense.” 

Perhaps  the  life  of  the  pioneer  preacher  was  never  better  or  more 
concisely  described,  than  in  the  language  of  Peter  Cartwright, 

who  says: 

“A  methodist  preacher,  in  those  days,  when  he  felt  that  God  had 
called  him  to  preach,  instead  of  hunting  up  a college,  or  Biblical 
institute,  hunted  up  a hardy  pony  or  a horse  and  some  traveling 
apparatus,  and  with  his  library  always  at  hand,  namely,  a bible, 
hymn  book  and  discipline,  he  started,  and  with  a text  that  never 
wore  out  or  grew  stale,  he  cried:  ‘‘Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  that 
taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world.” 

In  this  way  he  went  through  storms  of  wind,  hail,  snow  and  rain; 
climbed  hills  and  mountains,  traversed  valleys,  plunged  through 
swamps,  swam  swollen  streams,  lay  out  all  night,  wet,  weary  and 
hungry,  held  his  horse  by  the  bridle  all  night,  or  tied  him  to  a limb, 
slept  with  his  saddle-blanket  for  a bed,  his  saddle  or  saddle-bags  for 
his  pillow,  and  his  old  big  coat,  or  blanket  if  he  had  any,  for 
a covering. 

Often  he  slept  in  dirty  cabins,  on  earthen  floors,  before  the  fire; 
ate  roasting-ears  for  bread,  drank  butter-milk  for  coffee,  or  sage  tea 
for  imperial;  took,  with  a hearty  zest,  deer  or  bear  meat,  or  wild 
turkey  for  breakfast,  dinner  and  supper,  if  he  could  get  it.  His 
text  was  always  ready:  “Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  etc.”  This 
was  old-fashioned  Methodist  fare  and  fortune.  Under  such  circum- 
stances, who  among  us  now  would  say : “Here  am  I,  Lord,  send  me.” 


CHAPTER  XL. 


“OLD  JIMMIE”  AXLEY. 


BRUTAL  BULLIES SCENES  AT  A CAMP-MEETING A MINISTER  KNOCKED 

DOWN RALLY  OF  THE  ROWDIES BIRKHAMMER THE  CHURCH  MILI- 
TANT  THE  SHERIFF’S  POSSE “OLD  JIMMIE”  AXLEY A DISAPPOINTED 

CONGREGATION “OLD  JIMMIE’S”  REPROOFS BAD  CONDUCT THE 

NOISY  MAN THE  VAIN  GIRL THE  SLEEPY  INDIVIDUAL THE  TOBACCO 

CHEWER BETTER  BEHAVIOR EARNEST  AND  HONEST PRIMITIVE 

CHURCHES THEIR  ACCOMMODATIONS THE  MUSIC INNOVATIONS  OF 

YOUNG  AMERICA GLENDENNING’S  MARCH ANOTHER  ANECDOTE  OF 

PETER  CARTWRIGHT SCOFFERS “ANOTHER  SINNER  DOWN” CON- 

VERTED. 


That  the  pioneer-preacher’s  duty  was  not  all  one  of  peace,  we  may 
cite  an  incident  occurring  at  a camp  meeting,  held  under  the  auspices 
of  Bishop  Asbury,  at  Rushville,  Ohio.  Upon  the  grounds  were  a 
large  number  of  miserable  rowdies  and  brutal  bullies,  who  did  every- 
thing in  their  power  to  annoy  and  disturb  the  preachers  and  the 
members  of  the  church.  On  one  Saturday  they  determined  to  break 
up  the  meeting,  and  having  become  about  half  intoxicated,  they 
attempted  to  put  in  force  their  threat,  that  they  “intended  to  run  the 
meeting.” 

Beginning  the  disturbance  by  hooting  and  yelling  like  so  many 
demons,  about  twenty  of  them  made  their  way  into  the  grounds. 
Here  they  were  met  by  one  of  the  preachers  and  entreated  to  leave, 
or  cease  their  noise,  at  which  the  ladies  of  the  congregation  were 
terrified.  The  answer  of  the  brutal  bully,  who  led  the  rowdies,  was  a 
blow  in  the  face  of  the  minister,  which  knocked  him  down.  At  this 
his  comrades  rallied  around  him  and  they  became  more  riotous  than 
ever.  The  more  orderly  part  of  the  congregation  now  saw  that 
they  must  defend  themselves,  or  give  way  to  the  bullies  and  leave 
the  grounds,  and  this  they  by  no  means  intended  to  do. 

Amongst  the  preachers  in  attendance  was  a powerful  man,  named 
Birkhammer,  and  he  was  of  the  old  Peter  Cartwright  order,  both  in 
his  ways  of  thinking  and  his  modes  of  action.  Coming  up  to  the 
leader  of  the  ruffians,  he  seized  him  in  his  iron  grip  and  jerked  him 

335 


336  CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

down  onto  a bench  with  one  hand,  and  catching  his  second  in  com- 
mand by  the  neck  with  the  other,  he  jammed  him  down  into  his 
chief’s  lap  and  held  them  until  the  arrival  of  the  sheriff.  In  the 
meantime  the  other  members  of  the  congregation  had  not  been  idle, 
and  ten  of  the  rowdies  were  turned  over  to  the  sheriff’s  posse,  which 


carried  them  before  a justice  of  the  peace,  who  imposed  heavy  fines 
upon  them. 

There  was  no  more  trouble  after  this,  and  Bishop  Asbury,  aftei 
prayer  and  song,  opened  the  meeting,  which  continued  for  four  days 
longer,  and  at  which  over  a hundred  persons  were  converted. 


“OLD  JIMMIE”  AXLEY.  337 

“OLD  JIMMIE”  AXLEY. 

James  Axley,  or,  as  he  was  almost  universally  known,  “Old  Jim- 
mie” Axley,  was  a very  eccentric  Methodist  preacher,  whose  fame 
was  familiar  in  every  household  in  East  Tennessee.  Upon  one 
occasion  an  appointment  had  been  left  for  him  at  Jonesborough,  and 
in  consequence,  when  the  day  arrived,  the  church  was  crowded. 
Intense  was  the  disappointment  when  a preacher,  who  had  accom- 
panied him,  arose  and  proceeded  with  the  service.  The  crowd, 
which  had  gathered,  was  not  slow  to  make  known  its  disappointment, 
and  the  conduct  was  very  unseemly.  This  irritated  the  old  man 
greatly,  and  when  the  brother  had  concluded  his  sermon  and  the 


song  and  prayer  had  been  finished,  “Old  Jimmie”  arose  to  say  a 
few  words. 

This  he  did  in  his  own  peculiar  manner,  which  was  inimitable. 
Bending  over  the  pulpit  he  surveyed  the  people  for  a minute  or  two 
in  solemn  silence,  and  wThen  he  had  succeeded  in  fixing  every  eye  in 
the  congregation,  he  began  as  follows: 

“It  may  be  a very  painful  duty,  but  it  is  a very  solemn  one,  for 
a minister  of  the  Gospel  to  reprove  vice,  misconduct  and  sin 
whenever  and  wherever  he  sees  it.  But  especially  is  this  his  duty 
on  Sunday  and  at  church.  That  is  a duty  I am  now  about  to 
attend  to. 


338  CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

“Now/’  said  he,  leveling  his  bony  finger  towards  a man  sitting 
just  beside  the  door,  “that  man,  sitting  out  yonder  beside  the  door. 


who  got  up  and  went  out  while  the  brother  was  preaching,  stayed 
out  as  long  as  he  wanted  to,  got  his  boots  full  of  mud,  came  back 


“OLD  jimmie”  axley.  339 

and  stamped  the  mud  off  at  the  door,  making  all  the  noise  he  could, 
on  purpose  to  disturb  the  attention  of  the  congregation,  and  then 
took  his  seat;  that  man  thinks  I mean  him.  No  wonder  he  does. 
It  doesn’t  look  as  if  he  had  been  raised  in  the  white  settlements, 
does  it,  to  behave  that  way  at  a meeting?  Now,  my  friend,  I’d 
advise  you  to  learn  better  manners  before  you  come  to  church  next 
time.  But  I don’t  mean  him.” 

“And  now,  that  little  girl  sitting  there” — and  he  indicated  her, 
so  that  everyone  could  see  just  whom  he  was  pointing  at — “about 
half  way  of  the  house.  I should  judge  her  to  be  about  sixteen 
years  old — that’s  her  with  the  artificial  flowers  on  the  outside  of 
her  bonnet,  and  the  inside  of  her  bonnet;  she  has  a breastpin  on, 
too : she  that  was  giggling  and  chatting  all  the  time  the  brother  was 
preaching,  so  that  even  the  old  sisters  in  the  neighborhood  couldn’t 
hear  what  he  was  saying,  though  they  tried  to;  she  thinks  I mean 
her.  I’m  sorry  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  for  any  parents  that 
have  raised  a girl  to  her  time  of  day,  and  haven’t  taught  her  howto 
behave  when  she  comes  to  church.  Little  girl,  you  have  disgraced 
your  parents,  as  well  as  yourself.  Behave  better  next  time,  won’t 
you?  But  I don’t  mean  her. 

Again  his  long  finger  is  pointed,  this  time  transfixing  a sleepy 
looking  individual,  just  rousing  from  a comfortable  snooze,  and  he 
said:  “That  man  sitting  there,  that  looks  as  bright  and  pert  as  if 
he  never  was  asleep  in  his  life,  and  never  expected  to  be,  but  that 
just  as  soon  as  the  brother  took  his  text,  laid  his  head  down  on  the 
back  of  the  seat  in  front  of  him,  went  sound  asleep,  slept  the  whole 
time  and  snored;  that  man  thinks  I mean  him.  My  friend,  don’t 
you  know  the  church  ain’t  the  place  to  sleep?  If  you  needed  rest, 
why  didn’t  you  stay  at  home,  take  off  your  clothes,  and  go  to  bed? 
That’s  the  place  to  sleep,  not  church.  The  next  time  you  have  a 
chance  to  hear  a sermon,  I’d  advise  you  to  keep  awake.  But  I 
don’t  mean  him.” 

In  the  congregation  was  a certain  Judge  White,  who  greatly  liked 
and  was  greatly  liked  by  the  old  preacher,  and  as  he  sat  well  up 
toward  the  pulpit,  he  craned  his  neck  around  at  each  peroration  of 
“Old  Jimmy’s,”  in  order  to  see  who  was  to  be  the  next  victim. 
Great  was  his  inward  cachination,  as  the  eccentric  old  preacher 
poured  out  the  vials  of  his  good-humored,  but  scathing  rebuke, 
upon  those  who  most  surely  deserved  it.  At  last,  after  having  given 


340 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


each  of  the  guilty  ones  a touch  of  his  sarcastic  humor,  he  once  more 
leaned  forward,  and  said: 


“And  now  I reckon  you  want  to  know  who  I do  mean?  I mean 
that  dirty,  nasty,  filthy  tobacco  chewer,  sitting  on  the  end  of  that 


icOLD  JIMMIE**  AXLEY.  341 

front  seat,”  and  he  singled  out  the  Judge  with  an  unerring  aim. 
“See  what  he  has  been  about.  Look  at  those  puddles  on  the  floor, 
a frog  wouldn’t  get  into  them;  think  of  the  tails  of  the  sisters’ 
dresses  being  dragged  through  that  muck.” 

The  Judge,  who  was  an  excessive  consumer  of  the  weed  and  a 
most  industrious  spitter,  at  once  ceased  his  grins,  and  afterwards 
said,  that  that  sermon  had  cured  him  of  chewing  tobacco  in  church. 
It  was  this  earnest  and  honest  independence  and  aim  to  do  their 
Master’s  work  without  fear,  and  without  favor,  that  made  the  min- 
istry of  these  men  so  effective.  Of  similar  metal  was  Elias 
Macurdy,  who  preached  the  famous  sermon,  long  known  as  the 
“War”  sermon.  During  its  thundering,  strongmen  trembled  like 
reeds,  and  fell  on  every  hand,  as  if  beneath  the  bullets  of  an  enemy, 
or  the  terrible  lightnings  of  Sinai. 

glendenning’s  march. 

A Presbyterian  minister,  writing  of  the  primitive  churches  of 
those  pioneer  days,  says : “The  first  churches  were  built  of  unhewn 
logs,  without  any  plastering,  sometimes  without  any  floor,  and 
always  without  fire.  In  the  coldest  season  of  the  year  the  minister 
had  to  preach,  and  the  people  to  hear,  with  their  overcoats  buttoned 
up  to  the  chin,  and  seldom  was  the  sermon  less  than  an  hour  and  a 
half  long,  and  often  much  longer.  Instead  of  the  cushioned  seats 
of  these  days,  slab  stools,  without  any  support  to  the  back,  were 
the  only  sitting  accommodations.” 

These  “good  old  days”  were  always  looked  back  to  by  the  older 
members  of  the  church  with  regret,  though  we  must  confess  that 
shorter  sermons  and  more  comfortable  accommodations  are  decid- 
edly the  preference  with  the  rising  generation. 

To  show  the  obstinacy  with  which  some  of  the  primitive  usages 
and  ways  of  the  church  were  adhered  to  by  the  aged  members,  it  is 
related  that,  in  the  Presbyterian  church  at  Upper  Octorara,  in  Ches- 
ter County,  Pennsylvania,  was  an  Elder  James  Glendenning,  who 
was  absolutely  opposed  to  any  innovation  on  the  established  order 
of  things.  At  last,  however,  the  old  brother  found  himself  so  far 
in  the  minority,  that  he  could  no  longer  control  the  more  progressive 
members,  whose  occasional  visits  to  Philadelphia  had  taught  them 
that  in  music,  as  in  several  other  things,  they  had  not  kept  up  with 
the  spirit  of  ths  times, 


CONQUERING  TIIE  WILDERNESS. 


342 

Accordingly,  they  determined  to  import  a choir  leader  who  could 
teach  them  newer  music,  and  after  much  practice  they  appeared  one 
Sunday,  prepared  to  do  or  die.  The -news  had  reached  our  Elder, 
and  when  the  first  notes  of  one  of  the  new  songs  began  to  float  out 
upon  the  hushed  and  solemn  air,  he  rose  stiffly,  and  without  looking 
to  the  right  or  left,  moved  “with  stately  step,  and  slow,”  down  the 
aisles,  and  out  of  the  church,  in  indignation  at  its  desecration  by  a 
modern  tune.  For  years  thereafter  that  song  was  known  as 
“Glendenning’s  March.” 

At  one  time  when  old  Peter  Cartwright  was  returning  on  his 
sturdy  pony  from  a small  town,  he  came  up  behind  a party  of  three 
in  a small  spring  wagon,  knowm  in  those  days  as  a “Democrat 
wagon.”  The  party  were  two  young  men  and  a young  lady.  It 
was  evident,  from  their  conduct,  that  they  knew  who  Cartwright 
was,  though  he  did  not  remember  ever  having  seen  them.  As  he 
came  briskly  along  behind  them,  they  began  praying  aloud,  and 
uttering  the  cries  and  shouts  often  heard  upon  the  camp-grounds  at 
that  day. 

They  would  sing  awhile  and  then  shout,  and  next  a prayer  would 
be  offered,  and  one  of  them  falling  to  his  knees,  the  others  would 
raise  a loud  shout  of:  “Hallelujah  ! Glory  to  God  ! another  sin- 
ner down!”  when  up  would  spring  the  one,  who  was  kneeling, 
shouting:  “Glory  to  the  Lamb  ! God  has  blessed  me.”  Naturally 
anxious  to  escape  from  such  a scene  of  infamous  blaspheming,  Cart- 
wright first  endeavored  to  spur  past  them,  and  finding  he  could  not 
succeed,  he  walked  his  horse,  but  it  was  all  to  no  purpose. 

They  kept  just  in  front  of  him,  and  he  was  compelled  to  exercise 
his  patience.  After  awhile,  remembering  that  there  was  a very  deep 
mud-hole  just  a little  ways  ahead,  he  whipped  up  his  pony  in  hopes 
to  pass  the  wagon,  through  the  timber,  while  it  was  toiling  through 
the  heavy  road.  As  he  had  half  expected,  they  struck  their  horses, 
aud  put  them  to  the  top  of  their  speed,  to  prevent  their  victim 
from  escaping  them.  Dashing  recklessly  on,  they  came  to  the 
brink  of  the  mud-hole,  and  unable  to  stop  in  time,  they  struck 
a deep  rut,  and  the  wagon  upsetting,  the  three  were  soon  wallowing 
in  the  black,  sticky  mire. 

It  was  now  Cartwright’s  time  to  crow,  and  reigning  in  his  pony, 
he  rose  in  his  stirrups  and  began  shouting:  “Hallelujah,  Glory  to 
God  ! Another  sinner  down  ! Glory  ! ’ ’ When  he  had  taunted 


4 ‘OLD  JIMMIE”  axley.  343 

them  sufficiently  for  them  to  realize  the  folly  and  meanness  of  their 
actions,  he  said  to  them:  “Now,  you  poor,  dirty,  mean  sin- 
ners, take  this  as  a just  judgment  of  God  upon  you  for  your 
meanness,  and  repent  of  your  dreadful  wickedness,  and  let  this  be 
the  last  time  you  attempt  to  insult  a preacher ; for  if  you  repeat 


your  abominable  sport  and  persecutions,  the  next  time  God  will 
serve  you  worse,  and  the  devil  will  get  you.” 

Cartwright  says:  “They  felt  so  badly  that  they  never  uttered  one 
word  of  reply.  Now  I was  very  glad  that  I did  not  horsewhip  them, 
as  I had  felt  like  doing;  but  that  God  had  avenged  his  own  cause, 


S44  CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

and  defended  his  own  honor,  without  my  doing  it  with  carnal 
weapons ; and  I may  here  be  permitted  to  say,  that  at  one  of  our  camp- 
meetings,  I had  the  great  pleasure  to  see  all  three  of  these  young 
people  converted  to  God.” 

Such  were  the  pioneers  of  religion,  mighty  men  and  true,  doing 
God’s  service  in  the  wilderness — often,  it  must  be  confessed,  in  a 
rude  and  homely  way,  but  always  with  earnestness  and  piety. 
Upon  the  roll  call  of  these  pioneers,  appear  the  names  of  Asbury, 
Cartwright,  Boehm,  Axley,  McMillan,  Broaddus,Vardeman,  Thomas, 
Alexander,  Lacey,  George,  McKendree,  Soule  and  others,  who  have 
long  since  “walked  with  God.” 


CHAPTER  XLI. 


PIONEER  SCHOOLS  AND  SUNDAY  SCHOOLS. 


LOG  CABIN  SCHOOL-HOUSES THE  SEAT  OF  HONOR CLAY,  CALHOUN  AND 

WEBSTER THE  PIONEER  PEDAGOGUE  SOLOMON’S  MAXIM  THE 

SCHOLARS THE  UNLUCKY  BOY THE  MISCHIEVOUS  SCHOLARS THE 

LITTLE  BELLE CHINESE  CIVILIZATION MACAULEY’S  NEW  ZEALANDER 

GOLDEN  YOUTH THE  PIONEER  SUNDAY  SCHOOL ITS  SCOPE 

LOVE  AND  DUTY THE  TEACHERS TENDER  MAIDENS ENTHUSIASTIC 

PRAISES THE  BIBLE  CLASS FUTURE  STATESMEN u MOTHER’S  IN 

ISRAEL” SUNDAY-SCHOOL  MISSIONARY  LABOR “ PIKE’S  RUN” 

INGERSOLL’S  LABORS CHEERFUL  GIVERS AN  ACCEPTABLE  PRESENT 

THE  HORSE  JOCKEY PETTY  THIEVING A PERFECT  SUCCESS 

A CHURCH  FORMED. 


THE  PIONEER  SCHOOL. 

Almost  abreast  with  the  pioneer  preacher  came  the  primitive  district 
and  Sunday  school  teacher  dispensing,  it  is  true,  the  waters  of  the 
Pierian  spring  in  homoeopathic  draughts,  but  still,  in  their  humble 
way,  preparing  the  youth  of  the  border  for  the  more  advanced 
humanities  of  the  seminary,  grammar-school  and  college.  The 
churches  and  school  houses  were  but  rude  affairs;  rough  log  cabins, 
not  even  of  hewed  timbers,  and  provided  with  puncheon  seats. 
These  furnished  all  of  the  accommodations  for  the  scholars,  desks 
not  being  obtainable,  and  even  had  they  been,  would  doubtless  have 
been  considered  a superfluity. 

A puncheon  stool,  so  arranged  that  the  pedagogue  could  lean  back 
against  the  wall  of  the  school  house,  at  one  end  of  it,  was  the  throne 
of  the  master,  who  inducted  the  fallow  mind  in  the  mysteries  of  “the 
three  P’s,”  as  some  worthy  London  alderman  toasted,  “reading, 
’riting  and  ’rithmetic.”  Before  him  stood  a small  desk,  the  only 
one  in  the  house,  manufactured  of  pine  or  oak  boards.  Upon  this 
the  pupils  took  turn  about  with  their  copy-books,  practicing  the 
“pot-hooks  and  hangers”  of  that  early  era. 

Smije  as  we  may  at  these  primitive  structures — where  some  itiner- 
ant school  teacher  satisfied  the  earliest  divine  thirstings  of  the  child* 
ish  mind  for  knowledge — in  just  such  arenas  were  first  trained  our 

345 


346 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


intellectual  giants,  our  Clays,  Calhouns  and  Websters,  whose  vacant 
places  in  our  national  capitol  have  never  been  and  never  will  be  filled. 


The  master  himself  was  a study  worthy  of  the  pencil  of  a Hogarth. 
Long,  gangling  and  angular  inform*  and  with  an  owlish  gravity  of 


PIONEER  SCHOOLS  AND  SUNDAY  SCHOOLS. 


347 


face,  his  costume  was  not  exactly  that  of  a Brummel  or  Hickman. 
Without  a coat  or  vest,  his  jeans  pants  were  upheld  at  the  top  by 
tow  or  yarn  suspenders,  or,  as  he  would  have  called  them,  “galluses/  ’ 
and  rolled  up  at  the  bottom,  displaying  a pair  of  large  bare  feet  and 
bony  ankles.  In  his  hand  was  a long  hickory  rod,  with  which  he 
pointed  out  the  scholar  whose  turn  it  was  to  answer;  or,  in  case  of 
delinquencies,  with  which  he  enforced  his  authority.  He  had 
unbounded  faith  in  the  maxim  of  that  alleged  wise  man,  Solomon, 
and  did  not  believe  in  spoiling  the  child  by  neglecting  frequent 
applications  of  the  hickory.  Parenthetically  we  may  remark,  that 
from  the  conduct  of  Solomon,  in  his  mature  years,  we  have  often 
thought  that  David  must  have  had  a great  deal  to  charge  himself 
with  in  the  way  of  omissions. 

The  scholars  were  the  same  little  bare-footed,  sun-burned,  rosy- 
cheeked  boys  and  girls  who  now  fill  our  better  appointed  and  better 
officered  country  district  schools.  Times  change,  and  we  change 
with  them;  dynasties  rise,  flourish  and  decay;  religions  wax  and 
waver ; thrones  crumble  and  nations  disappear,  but  the  fount  of 
childhood  is  perennially  fresh.  Here  we  find  the  unlucky  boy  with 
the  cut  foot ; the  mischievous  young  rascal  sticking  pins  in  his  com- 
rades; the  unlucky  little  maiden,  whose  plump  cheeks  are  swollen 
almost  to  bursting  by  the  sting  of  the  yellow  jacket  or  “bumble 
bee.” 

Here  is  the  “mad  wag,”  whose  grins  and  grimaces  set  the  whole 
school  “on  a roar,”  and  here  is  the  demure  little  belle,  who  causes 
innumerable  heart-aches  and  heart-burnings  amongst  her  male  com- 
panions, and  who,  with  that  art  inherited  from  our  common  mother, 
Eve,  balances  her  books  so  well,  that  none  of  her  youthful  admirers 
can  tell  who  is  the  lucky  suitor. 

And  so  it  was  when  the  civilization  of  that  ancient  people,  the 
Chinese,  was  in  its  infancy;  before  a brick  of  Babylon  had  been 
burned  or  builded;  before  Jerusalem  existed  even  in  prophetic 
brains,  and  so  it  will  be  when  Macauley’s  predicted  New  Zealander 
shall  sit  upon  the  ruins  of  Westminster  Abbey  and  gaze  upon  the 
crumbling  ashes  of  forgotten  London.  Oh,  childhood,  joyous 
childhood,  pregnant  with  golden  possibilities,  thou  art  the  typing  of 
that  turning  wheel  whose  circle  brings  us  back  to  trust  and  truth, 
and  in  its  spheric  bound  encompasses  all  freshness  and  all  innocence  ! 
Thy  faith  defeats  time’s  fierce  iconoclasm;  thy  purity  makes  plain 
our  Godhood’s  presence  l 


348 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


THE  PIONEER  SUNDAY  SCHOOL. 

Another  pioneer  instrument  in  the  field  of  education  was  the 
Sunday  school,  where  morality  and  religion  made  a part  of  the 
curriculum,  and  where  the  Bible  and  the  hymnal  supplemented  the 
text  books  of  the  district  schools.  Here  the  blessed  refinements  of 
religion  were  inculcated, and  the  scope  of  the  teaching  thereby 
enlarged.  Here  the  heart  and  the  soul  were  educated,  as  well  as  the 
colder  and  more  selfish  faculties  of  the  intellect.  Here  the  intuitions 
of  goodness  and  purity  and  love  were  cultivated,  and  made  to  yield 
their  fruits,  no  less  necessary  than  those  of  the  brain. 

Unselfish  men  and  women  dedicated  their  seventh  day  to  this  task 
of  love  and  duty.  Like  the  earliest  preachers,  these  were  God’s 
pioneers,  doing  his  service  in  the  wilderness,  awakening  youth 
ful  minds  to  the  contemplation  of  righteousness > and  speeding  the 
good  work  of  religion.  Their  garbs  were  often  rough,  their  faces 
homely,  but  their  hearts  were  large  and  their  lives  saintly.  Their 
schools  were  generally  held  in  the  rude  buildings,  which  served  as 
churches  on  the  Sabbath,  and  often  as  district  school  houses  on  all 
other  days  of  the  week,  except  Saturday;  which,  for  some  unknown 
and  certainly  not  very  potent  reason,  is  everywhere  conceded  as  the 
scholar’s  weekly  holiday. 

In  these  buildings,  logs  hewed  on  the  top  and  bottom  did  duty  as 
seats  for  the  children,  and  a few  rough  stools  answered  the  uses  of 
their  teachers.  Both  the  teachers  and  scholars  were  clad  in  their 
best,  and  the  scene  was  one  of  peace  and  joy.  Boys,  almost  burst- 
ing with  suppressed  mischief,  and  dainty  little  bits  of  femininity, 
radiant  with  health  and  beauty,  filled  the  seats,  and  the  hum  of  their 
soft  voices  suffused  the  air  with  music.  Some  had  verses  to  say, 
others  questions  to  ask — those  questions,  which  from  fools  and  chil- 
dren, outdo  the  wisdom  of  sages;  unanswerable  queries,  framed  by 
who  knows  what  process  of  reason  or  intuition. 

Here  some  tender  maiden,  still  in  the  happy  boundary  of  her  teens, 
teaches  to  a golden-haired  damsel  the  blessed  way  that  she  so  early 
found.  Here  some  future  Senator  propounds  questions  in  regard 
to  the  theocracy  of  the  Israelites,  that  might  well  puzzle  sager  political 
economists  than  the  worthy  matron  in  whose  class  he  studies.  The 
youthful  superintendent  listens  respectfully  to  the  enthusiastic 


THE  PIONEER  SUNDAY  SCHOOL 


PIONEER  SCHOOLS  AND  SUNDAY  SCHOOLS. 


349 


350 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


praises  bestowed  by  a buxom  optimist  upon  her  small  class  of  juve- 
niles— which  she  pours  forth  with  a volubility  supposed  to  be  pecu- 
liarly feminine — and  turns  again  to  his  Bible  class,  composed  of  the 
older  pupils. 

In  this  class  may  be  found  the  young  farmers  and  other  youths, 
who  are  soon  to  begin  their  battle  with  the  world  as  lawyers,  doc- 
tors, or  merchants.  In  a few  years  some  of  them  will  be  filling  pul- 
pits or  occupying  places  upon  the  bench,  in  the  arena  of  politics,  or 
in  the  halls  of  Congress;  some  will  have  gone  down  to  ‘‘the  dark 
valley  of  the  shadow,”  filling  untimely  graves.  “Time  stands  for 
no  man,  halt  him  as  we  may./’ 

In  this  class,  too,  we  see  the  gentle  maidens,  whose  eyes  are  filled 
with  the  dreamy  unrest  of  their  vague  longings,  and  whose  footfalls 
will  soon  pass  from  the  mystic  boundary  of  girlhood  to  the  more 
rugged  paths  and  sterner  duties  of  maternity.  These  are  the  future 
“Mother’s  in  Israel,”  who  shall  lead  up  another  generation  to  the 
altar,  and  consecrate  them  to  the  gentle  Shepherd. 

Theirs  is  the  task  to  soothe  w.earied  brains  and  bruised  and 
bleeding  hearts;  theirs  the  unselfish  duty  of  sacrifice,  that  gives 
without  stint,  and  endures  without  murmuring;  theirs  is  the  after- 
type of  Christ’s  gentle  mercy,  the  giving  up  of  self,  that  others  may 
be  blessed.  Man’s  may  be  the  strength,  but  theirs  is  the  divinity 
of  courage;  man’s  may  be  heroic,  but  hers  is  God-like. 

While  in  some  places  the  Sunday  school  followed  the  church,  yet 
in  other  places  it  lead  it.  When  the  children  had  been  gathered 
into  the  Sunday  school,  it  was  often  found  that  the  parent,  as 
teacher,  sympathizer,  or  officer,  followed,  and  the  desecration  of 
the  Sabbath — by  hunting  and  household  work  on  the  part  of  the 
parents;  and  fishing,  playing  ball  and  marbles,  and  robbing  orchards 
and  watemelon  patches,  by  the  children — ceased.  A desire  for  a better 
life  was  stimulated,  and  in  the  wake  of  the  newly  established  Sunday 
school  would  come  the  itinerant  preacher,  the  little  church,  and  finally 
all  of  the  blessings,  which  attend  in  the  train  of  religion.  The  grog- 
shop lost  its  customers,  the  card  tables  were  forsaken  by  their 
devotees,  and  order  and  happiness  ruled  the  homes. 

The  Rev.  W.  B.  Childlaw  speaks  of  one  of  . his  scenes  of  Sunday 
school  missionary  labor,  thus:  “In  1837,  while  laboring  in  the 
new  settlements  of  Northwestern  Ohio,  I found  a few  pious  settlers 
on  ‘Pike’s  Run,’  a tributary  of  the  Auglaise  River,  and  established 


PIONEER  SCHOOLS  AND  SUNDAY  SCHOOLS. 


351 


a union  Sunday  school  among  them.  The  next  year  I found  the 
school  flourishing,  and  largely  increased  in  members,  with  a prayer- 
meeting attached  to  it. 

“The  following  year,  1838,  a church  was  organized,  a log  chapel 
erected,  and  the  services  of  a pastor  secured.  The  union  Sunday 
school  was  the  day  of  small  things  to  the  early  settlers,  but  it  was 
the  beginning  of  days  and  the  germ,  out  of  which  grew  the  Con- 
gregational church  of  Gomer,  one  of  the  largest  and  most  prosper- 
ous churches  in  that  part  of  the  State,  a glorious  testimony  of  the 
evangelistic  power  of  the  missionary  work  of  the  American  Sunday 
School  Union.” 

E.  S.  Ingersoll  (we  cannot  help  but  wonder  if  he  is  a relative  of 
Robert),  says : “In  1860 1 organized  a Sunday  school  in  the  county 

of  E , in  a settlement  of  five  families.  It  was  on  a week  day. 

All  the  men,  women  and  children  had  come  together,  to  pile  the 
logs,  that  one  man  had  cut  around  his  shanty.  While  they  were 
eating  supper,  I gave  a short  address,  and  a Sunday  school  was 
organized.  My  closing  advice  was:  “Don’t  let  a family,  that  moves 
into  your  settlement,  live  here  one  Sabbath,  without  an  invitation  to 
attend  your  Sunday  school.” 

This  advice  was  followed.  Three  years  after  I was  invited  to 
visit  that  school,  and  supply  them  with  a new  library.  The  price 
was  ten  dollars.  They  took  a collection.  The  superintendent  gave 
one  dollar;  he  was  bare-footed,  said  he  had  not  a boot  or  shoe.  A 
lady  gave  three  shillings,  saying:  “I  have  saved  it  towards  getting 
me  some  shoes,  but  I love  to  give  it  for  a Sunday  school  library.” 
Her  feet  were  very  poorly  clad.  Others  made  equaly  great  sacri- 
fices, until  they  had  raised  three  dollars  and  twenty-five  cents,  and  I 
think  every  penny  in  the  congregation  was  in.  The  superintendent 
asked  if  I could  wait  for  the  balance. 

I replied:  “You  remember  God  accepted  Abraham  and  spared  the 
victim,  so  I think  He  will  accept  this  offering;  take  back  your 

money.  In  the  name  of  Mrs.  W I present  you  this  library.” 

Five  years  after  this  I visited  them  again,  and  found  eighty  or  ninety 
persons  in  the  school,  and  was  told  that  every  family  within  two 
miles  was  represented.  Now  there  is  a Presbyterian  church  there, 
and  regular  preaching  is  sustained. 

In  the  year  1862, 1 canvassed  the  county  of  C . One  Sabbath, 

as  I was  going  to  my  appointment,  I found  about  twenty  boys  play- 
ing ball.  The  next  day  I returned  to  that  district,  visited  every 


352 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


family,  and  talked  about  a Sunday  school.  Some  were  anxious, 
some  indifferent,  and  some  made  light  of  it.  I saw  that  a certain 
individual  must  be  enlisted,  and  he  was  a notorious  “horse-jockey.” 
I went  to  his  house  for  the  night.  For  a time  we  chatted  on  agri- 
culture, politics,  horses,  etc.  Then  I introduced  Sunday  schools. 
Pie  was  frank  to  say  they  were  good,  if  properly  conducted,  “but  it 
is  of  no  use  to  undertake  one  here.  Why  the  boys  play  ball  here 
every  Sunday.” 

“Why  shouldn’t  they?  ” I asked,  “they  have  nothing  else  to  do; 
give  them  a good  Sunday  school  and  a good  library,  and  they  won’t 
play  ball.”  “Oh  fie,  don’t  talk  to  me,  and  more,”  said  he,  “they 
steal  my  watermelons,  and  stack  the  vines.”  “Justin  keeping  with 
the  propensities  of  all  boys,  who  have  nothing  better  to  do.  If  you 
will  take  hold  of  the  Sunday  school  here,  and  try  and  make  it  inter- 
esting, I will  guarantee  your  watermelons,  and  there  will  be  no  more 
ball  playing  on  the  Sabbath.” 

“The  next  Sabbath  we  had  a good  meeting;  the  boys  were  there 
and  voted  to  organize  a Sunday  school.  Mr.  “Horse-Jockey”  was 
elected  librarian.  After  the  meeting,  he  invited  me  to  his  home, 
and  made  a great  many  inquiries  about  his  duties;  said  he  had  no 
idea  there  was  so  much  to  a Sunday  school.  He  ordered  books  and 
papers  from  me  from  time  to  time. 

“Three  years  after  I called  on  him,  and  asked  him  about  the  Sun- 
day school.  “It  is  a perfect  success,”  said  he,  “The  boys  have 
not  played  ball  a single  Sunday  since  you  were  here,  and  just  come 
and  see  my  watermelons.  I can  raise  more  than  I can  eat  or  give 
away.”  A Baptist  minister  commenced  preaching  there,  soon  after 
the  Sunday  school  was  organized.  Soon  a church  was  formed,  and 
meetings  held  every  Sabbath.” 


PART  II 


The  Plains. 


THE  ERA  OF  COMMERCE  AND  EXPLORATION. 


‘Across  this  sandy,  sometime  sea, — 

Now  parched  plain, — they  toil  along, 

These  bearded  men  all  gaunt  and  strong,^- 
Fit  guard  for  any  king  to  be; — 

Men  that  on  any  fateful  field 

Would  fight,  bleed,  die,  but  never  yield.” 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE  PLAINS. 


NECESSARY  EXCITEMENT ADAM  POE’S  REMARK KENTUCKY’S  HALCYON  DAYS 

THE  PIONEER  TRAPPER A BARE  POLL LEWIS  WETZEL’S  IMPRISON- 
MENT  ROBERT  M’LELLAN LEATHERSTOCKINGS THE  PAWNEES 

THE  GREAT  AMERICAN  DESERT CHILDISH  LONGINGS TRAPPING  AND 

HUNTING DAY  DREAMS INDIANS,  HALF-BREEDS  AND  “SQUAW  MEN” 

SCHOLARS  AND  DESPERADOES MOUNTAIN  MEN RARE  SURGEONS A 

RUDE  OPERATION RANCHMEN  AND  RANCHES THE  DUG-OUT PLAINS 

ARCHITECTURE ADOBES MERCHANTS  AND  MERCHANDISE TRAD- 
ING CATTLE FRESH  STEERS PLUNDERED  PILGRIMS A REMUNERA- 

TIVE TRADE. 


When  Kentucky  had  been  wrested  from  savage  sway,  it  was  hardly 
to  be  expected  that  all  of  the  pioneers  would,  like  Kenton,  Logan 
and  even  Wetzel,  discard  their  trusty  rifles,  forswTear  hunting,  and 
settle  down  as  peaceable  tillers  of  the  soil.  It  might  with  especial 
reason  be  expected,  that  the  younger  men  of  this  class  would  seek 
that  ever  shifting  boundary,  the  border,  and  continue  along  its 
intangible  line,  the  sports  with  which  they  had  not,  like  their  older 
comrades,  become  satiated  upon  the  broad  fields  of  the  “dark  and 
bloody  ground.”  To  numbers  of  these  men  danger  had  become  a 
necessary  excitement,  and  ambush  and  attack  as  natural  as  the  air 
they  breathed. 

The  proclamation  of  peace  was  all  very  well,  they  thought,  to 
settle  disputed  boundaries,  and  to  determine  what  piece  of  colored  cloth 
should  wave  over  certain  strips  of  territory,  but  these  proclamations 
found  no  echo  in  their  hearts.  Their  characters  and  their  longings 
were  truly  set  forth  in  a remark  of  big  Adam  Poe.  In  a conversation 
on  the  pleasures  of  hunting,  he  said  with  animation:  “I’ve  tried 
all  kinds  of  game,  boys  ! I’ve  fit  bar  and  painter  (panther)  and 
catamount,  but,”  he  added  regretfully,  and  with  a vague,  unsatisfied 
longing  in  the  plaintive  tones  of  his  voice,  “thar  ain’t  no  game  like 
Ingins — No,  sir  ! no  game  like  In  jins.” 

When  the  halcyon  days  of  Kentucky’s  career  began,  these  young 
Hotspurs  of  the  border,  shouldered  their  rifles  and  bade  adieu  to  the 

355 


356 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


land  in  which  deer  was  becoming  scarce,  and  where  in  valley  or  on 
mountain  not  a single  redskin  was  to  be  “ scared  up . ” Life  under  such 
conditions  was  too  tame,  and  we  find  them  scattered  in  every  direc- 
tion, to  the  West,  South  and  Northwest.  Afar  up  amongst  the  icy 
waters  of  the  Upper  Missouri,  the  agents  of  the  American  Fur 
Company  one  day  met  a canoe  with  three  trappers  in  it,  sailing 
unconcernedly  down  through  the  tribes  of  the  fiery  Black  Feet,  the 
thieving  Crows,  the  Tetons,  the  Mandans,  and  the  hundreds  of  other 
tribes  lining  the  banks  of  that  mighty  but  muddy  torrent.  At  their 
head  was  Edward  Robinson,  one  of  Kentucky’s  brave  old  pioneers, 
who  had,  on  some  of  her  battle  fields,  already  lost  his  scalp  to  the 
savage  foemen.  Unwinding  his  handkerchief  from  his  bare  skull,  he 
chuckled  as  he  said  to  Mr.  Hunt,  in  answer  to  the  latter’s  question 
if  he  was  not  afraid  he’ d lose  his  scalp : “I’ll  fool  ’ em  bad  now , ef  they 
down  me.  Thar’s  a mighty  poor  show  for  har  thar  !”  He  was  sixty- 
six  years  old  and  was  as  successful  a trapper  and  as  hardy  a hunter 
as  either  of  his  youthful  companions. 

Lewis  Wetzel  made  his  way  down  amongst  the  Spaniards  in 
Louisiana,  looking  for  adventure,  and  found  an  opportunity  to  cool 
his  rage  for  excitement  by  spending  two  years  in  the  prison  at  New 
Orleans,  from  which  he  was  at  last  released  through  the  intercession 
of  the  American  Government.  What  he  had  done  to  merit  this 
treatment,  no  one  knows.  Some  hint  at  a counterfeiting  operation; 
others  at  an  amour  with  the  wife  of  a Spanish  official.  The  reader 
has  both  solutions  offered,  and  can  take  his  choice;  we  put  but  little 
faith  in  either. 

Robert  McLellan,  who  had  hunted  Indians,  as  a scout  for  “Mad 
Anthony”  Wayne,  the  uproarious  Quaker  general,  could  not  rest 
satisfied  upon  the  peaceful  shores  of  the  Ohio  River,  from  whose 
banks  he  had  assisted  in  brushing  the  swarms  of  murderous  savages, 
and  went  up  to  the  head  waters  of  the  Missouri  River,  and  even 
beyond — to  the  shores  of  the  Pacific — and  returning,  after  many 
hair-breadth  escapes,  died  of  his  terrible  sufferings,  and  exposure  on 
these  excursions,  at  his  trading  post  in  Ste.  Genevieve.  But  the  list 
is  too  long,  so  we  shall  cease  the  enumeration. 

“The  Plains!”  How  the  very  name  used  to  thrill  us  when,  as 
children,  we  pored  over  exciting  tales  of  buffalo  hunts,  beaver  trap- 
ping and  Indian  ambuscades.  How  we  have  wept  over  Cooper’s 
beautiful  description  of  his  noble  old  scout,  Leatherstockings,  and  the 


THE  PLAINS. 


857 


tender  care  the  amiable  Pawnees  took  of  this  wise  old  hero.  We 
had  read  with  regret  of  his  harrowing  parting  from  his  gentle  Dela- 
ware friends — one  of  whom,  Wingenund,  we  have  already  seen  as 
one  of  the  prime  movers  in  the  torture  of  Crawford — but  here  again 
he  had  found  a refuge  with  the  god-like  Pawmees,  and  once  more 
our  youthful  minds  were  made  happy.  Alas,  for  the  revealments  of 
later  days. 

“Where  ignorance  is  bliss,  ’tis  folly  to  he  wise!” 

We  had  not  then  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  Pawnee,  as  we  were 
doomed  to  do  in  later  years,  and  we  did  not  then  know  him  as  a sav- 
age, a little  dirtier,  a little  lazier,  a little  more  cowardly  and  a little 
more  thievish  than  the  other  “Plains”  Indians. 

How  we  used  to  gloat  over  the  wide  stretch  of  territory  lying 
between  the  Mississippi  River  and  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  so 
truthfully  labeled  THE  GREAT  AMERICAN  DESERT.  This 
we  knew  from  our  geographies  to  be  “the  plains,”  and  we  also  rec- 
ognized it  as  the  paradise  of  Indians,  wolves,  buffalos,  and  other 
“varmint ,”  as  Natty  Bumpo  would  have  called  them.  How  any- 
body could  make  up  his  mind  to  go  to  Europe,  and  leave  its  myster- 
ies unexplored,  was  more  than  we  could  comprehend.  How  any  grown 
person,  who  presumably  had  control  of  his  own  destinies,  could  turn 
his  back  upon  this  delectable  section,  and  go  off  to  Saratoga,  (for 
there  was  no  Long  Branch  then!)  “leaving  its  sweetness  all 
unguessed,”  we  could  never  determine. 

For  ourselves,  we  intended,  just  as  soon  as  we  were  grown,  to  lay 
in  a s'tock  of  rifles,  pistols  and  “things” — under  which  generic  name 
we  included  all  other  necessaries — and  start  without  a moment’s  delay 
for  the  Great  American  Desert.  Once  there,  we  intended  to  spend  our 
time  trapping,  hunting  Indians  and  chasing  buffalo . How  many  others 
have  had  similar  visions  ! How  different  the  reality  from  what  we 
had  dreamed ! We  find,  when  we  reach  it,  the  Great  American 
Desert  no  desert  at  all,  but  the  bed  of  a vanished  sea,  over  which 
roamed  immense  herds  of  buffalo,  bands  of  elk,  and  flocks  of 
antelope. 

To  lend  variety  to  the  scene,  there  were  beastly  Indians,  and  filthy 
half-breeds,  and  that  nondescript,  the  “prairie  man,”  a white  man 
with  an  Indian  wife,  and  family  of  mixed  race.  These  were  gener- 
ally either  Frenchmen  or  Spaniards,  men  of  that  Latin  stock  that, 
unlike  the  Saxon  and  the  Anglo-Norman,  has  ever  been  ready  to 


358 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


mingle  its  blood  with  that  of  the  inferior  races.  There  were  some 
exceptions,  however,  and  in  my  own  experience  I was  acquainted 
with  several  Americans,  who  were  known  as  “Squaw  Men,”  or 


“Big  Injun  me!” 

SHAVED-IIEAD — THE  FAWNEE  CHIEF. 


“Prairie  Men;”  all  whites  having  Indian  families  being  called  by 
one  or  the  other  of  these  titles. 

Amongst  these  were  men  from  every  rank  in  life;  the  desperado, 
who  had  sought  in  the  Indian  villages  a refuge  from  the  outraged 


THE  PLAINS 


359 


law,  and  the  Ti mon-like  misanthrope,  who  fled  from  the  ingratitude 
or  insipidity  of  friends.  Here  were  rude,  unlettered  men,  but  a 
single  grade  above  the  dumb  animal ; and  here  again  was  the  man  of 
culture,  who  had  turned  in  disgust  from  the  impotence  of  all  human 
knowledge,  and  sought  in  the  wilderness  to  unlearn  its  vanities. 

Upon  the  plains,  more  often  than  amongst  the  mountains,  was  to 
be  found  the  “Mountain  Man,”  as  the  trapper  was  designated,  and 
these  were  the  hardiest  of  all  the  bold  borderers.  Of  them  Milton 
Sublette  and  John  Smith  (no  alias , gentle  reader!)  were  types; 
fearless  men  of  iron,  who  outdid  the  fiercest  Indian  in  daring,  and 
the  toughest  grizzly  in  endurance.  Of  wonderful  vitality,  and 
nerves  of  steel,  it  is  on  record,  that  each  of  these  two  men  amputa- 
ted his  own  leg. 


A DUG-OUT. 


Think  of  that,  ye  that  dwell  in  cities,  and  require  an  anaesthetic 
for  the  removal  of  an  aching  tooth  ! Here  were  rare  surgeons — 
physicians  healing  themselves  ! “Where  did  they  get  their  instru- 
ments,” do  you  ask?  They  made  them.  The  keenest  edge  possi- 
ble was  put  on  one  knife;  a second  one  was  hacked  into  a tolerable 
saw.  With  one  the  flesh  was  cut  to  the  bone;  with  the  other  the 
living  bone  and  sensitive  marrow  was  sawed  across.  An  iron, 
heated  to  white  heat,  seared  up  the  arteries  as  well  as  the  surgeon’s 
silk,  and  the  deed  was  done. 

There  was  also  another  class  of  men,  the  ranchmen,  who  dwelt 
along  the  rivers  and  creeks,  in  what  were  called  adobe  houses.  The 
adobe  in  Mexico — its  native  land — is  a sun-burnt  (or  dried)  brick; 
on  the  plains  it  was  sod.  The  ranches  along  the  Platte,  the  Cache 


300 


CONQUEEtNH  THE  WILDEENESS. 


la  Poudre  and  Lodge  Pole  Creek,  were  of  sod  and  built  in  the  fol- 
lowing manner.  The  sod  was  turned  up  in  sheets  about  four  inches 
thick,  eighteen  inches  wide,  and  one  or  two  acres  long.  These  lon^- 
strips  of  sod  were  then  cut  into  pieces  from  two  to  four  feet  in  length, 
according  to  the  thickness  you  wanted  your  wall.  Laying  the  grass 
side  down,  the  walls  were  built  as  high  as  desired ; tapering  upward 
at  each  end  from  the  edges  to  the  center,  so  as  to  give  a pitch  to 
to  .the  roof.  A large  cedar  ridge-pole  was  now  laid  across,  at  the 
highest  points,  from  end  to  end,  and  smaller  cross-poles  laid  from 
the  sides  up  to  the  ridge-pole.  Transversely  across  these  again 
small  poles  or  brush  were  laid,  and  covered  with  hay,  over  which 
dirt  was  thrown  to  a depth  of  several  inches.  The  floor  was  of  dirt, 
beat  hard,  and  sprinkled  and  swept  every  morning.  A primitive 
house,  I grant  you,  still  a degree  above  the  dug-out,  as  a hole 
in  the  grouud,  roofed  over,  is  called. 

In  summer,  these  cave-like  ranches  were  cool;  in  winter,  warm, 
and  in  an  Indian  attack,  the  best  fortress  ever  devised.  No  bullet 
could  penetrate  their  walls,  no  fire  from  the  outside  could  burn 
them. 

The  furniture  was  of  the  simplest  kind : a counter — for  the  ranch- 
man was  also  a merchant — bales  of  robes  for  seats,  a rough  wooden 
table  with  knives  and  forks  of  iron,  and  the  rest  of  their  furniture 
of  tin.  The  beds  were  buffalo  skins  and  Mackinaw  blankets,  spread 
down  upon  the  floor.  The  ranchman  made  his  living  by  selling 
to  the  “pilgrims” — as  overland  immigrants  were  called — and  the 
freighters,  supplies  of  buffalo,  elk  or  antelope  meat;  whisky  of  the 
most  destructive  type;  canned  goods,  and  playing  cards.  They  also 
traded  to  the  immigrants  fresh  stock,  for  foot-sore  cattle  and  horses, 
and  thus  made  numerous  profits. 

In  a week  after  trading  for  a worn-out  animal,  this  was  again 
exchanged,  as  a fresh  one , for  one  or  two  yoke  of  cattle,  and  fully 
as  much  as  it  was  worth  in  money.  Of  course,  such  animals  would 
soon  give  out  again,  and  often  a steer  or  horse  would  be  exchanged 
at  almost  every  ranch  between  Dog  Town  and  Denver,  or  Laramie. 


CHAPTER  II. 


PLAINS  CHARACTERS. 


INDIAN  TRADERS JACK  MORROW CORLEW  AND  KIRBY “THE  PILGRIM” 

HIS  OTHER  COGNOMENS HIS  SALUTATIQN THE  BULLWHACKER 

WHIPS  AND  TRICKS GAMBLERS THE  STAGE  DRIVER AN  AUTOCRAT 

INDIAN  COURTESANS SAVAGE  CUSTOMS OLD  JO  ROUBIDOUX 

VANISHED  SEAS IMPERISHABLE  CEDARS SUNKEN  CANONS INDIAN 

LEGENDS GRASSES TREES THEIR  USE  AS  SEPULCHRES WILLOW 

AND  CACTUS PLAINS  GAME A HAPPY  FAMILY PRAIRIE-DOGS  AND 

THEIR  GUESTS THE  AMIABLE  POLE-CAT A DEADLY  POISON CERTAIN 

DEATH A SORDID  CREATURE THE  BUFFALO  HUNTER HIS  GREED  FOR 

MONEY HOME  OF  THE  BUFFALO RAILWAY  CORPORATIONS PROS- 
PECTORS  AMATEUR  PLAINSMEN MEN  IN  BUCKSKIN. 


In  the  season  the  ranchmen  become  Indian  traders,  sending  men 
and  supplies  out  to  the  villages  to  trade  for  robes,  white  skins  and 
moccasins.  Of  this  class  of  men  Jack  Morrow,  who  kept  a ranch 
at  the  junction  of  the  North  and  South  Platte  Rivers,  and  John 
Corlew  and  Will  Kirby,  near  O’Fallon’s  Bluffs,  were  types.  The 
first  was  a rather  hard  party,  who  had,  by  one  means  and  another, 
made  his  ranching  extremely  profitable ; the  other  two  were  honest, 
honorable  gentlemen,  free  of  heart  and  clean  of  soul. 

The  freighter,  with  his  teams  of  oxen  or  mules,  is  too  well  known 
to  require  description,  and  the  “wagon  boss,”  a petty  tyrant  in  a 
very  small  way,  will  be  passed  by  in  silence.  The  “pilgrim”  of 
the  plains  is  the  “tenderfoot”  of  the  mountains,  and  the  green-horn 
of  the  further  East.  He  was  the  new  comer,  the  man  of  but  little 
experience,  and  the  butt  of  all  the  stale,  practical  jokes.  He  was  the 
one  selected  to  hold  the  bag  on  sniping  expeditions,  and  in  every 
way  his  verdancy  was  taken  advantage  of.  His  salutation  was  then, 
is  now,  and  I suppose  ever  will  be:  “I  say,  Cap  ! ” 

The  “bullwhacker”  was  a character  in  his  way,  and  quite  a 
genius.  Carrying  a heavy  whip,  with  a handle  a little  over  two 
feet  long,  and  a flexible  lash  at  least  twelve  feet  in  length,  he  would 
whirl  the  instrument  around  his  head  once  or  twice,  and  then  the 
keen,  tapering  lash  would  dart  forward  and  almost  lift  the  “dead- 
head” or  recalcitrant  steer  off  his  feet.  He  would  bet  with  the 

_ 361 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


3(52 

“pilgrim”  that  he  could  cut  his  pants  from  a distance  of  twelve  feet 
without  touching  his  leg,  taking  care  to  make  his  wager  small  enough 
to  lose  it  willingly,  when  the  cracker  went  tearing  through  cloth  and 
skin  and  flesh.  > 

The  gambler — but  then  all  men  on  the  plains  were  gamblers,  from 
the  thieving  savage,  with  his  Indian  poker,  too  complicated  for  a 
white  man’s  brain,  to  the  itinerant  faro  banker,  with  his  broad- 
cloth suit  and  his  set  of  magnificent  “tools.”  Gambling  was  the 
universal  passion ; some  men  hunted,  some  traded,  some  trapped, 
some  ranched,  some  freighted,  some  drove  team,  but  all  gambled. 
Here  the  steady  old  veteran  of  three  score  and  ten  might  be  seen 
“chipping  in”  at  a game  of  poker;  there  two  youngsters,  not  count- 
ing more  than  two  dozen  years  between  them,  engaged  each  other 
for  small  stakes  at  seven-up  and  euchre ; in  one  place  the  Texan  or 
the  Mexican  bucked  fiercely  against  a monte  bank,  while  two  or 
more  dusky  sons  of  Africa  gave  way  to  the  seduction  of  “craps.” 

We  must  not  forget  the  stage-driver,  an  autocrat,  whose  box  was 
his  throne,  whose  whip  was  his  scepter.  From  one  end  of  his  route 
to  the  other  he  was  idolized.  His  toddy  was  waiting  for  him  at  any 
ranch  at  which  he  chose  to  dismount;  his  meals  were  gratis  at  all 
eating  stations.  He  was  the  oracle  to  whom  all  difficulties  were 
submitted ; he  was  the  arbiter  of  all  disputes  not  settled  by  the  keen 
edge  of  the  bowie-knife  or  the  swift  bullet  of  the  revolver.  His 
attainments  were  supposed  to  be  unlimited,  his  knowledge  universal. 

The  courtesans  partook  of  the  transitory  character  of  all  things 
common  to  the  plains,  and  were  either  Caucasian  “scarlet  women,” 
journeying  to  Denver  or  “the  slope,”  or  more  often  the  half- 
breed  offspring  of  some  white  man  and  Indian  woman.  Probably  the 
most  notorious  of  these  last  were  the  half-breed  daughters  of  old 
Jo  Roubidoux,  the  founder  of  St.  Joseph,  Missouri. 

These  were  not  the  beautiful  Indian  maidens  whom  we  see  upon 
the  stage  and  in  eastern  poetry,  scornfully  refusing  the  passionate 
proposals  of  some  frontier  dandy,  togged  out  with  slashed  jacket, 
bell  buttons  and  fancy  moccasins,  but  sordid,  swarthy,  ill-favored 
cyprians,  bartering  their  favors  with  reckless  shamelessness.  Coarse 
of  feature  and  squat  of  build,  they  were  a strong  commentary  upon 
the  evils  of  mixed  blood. 

Traveling  with  their  mother’s  tribe — the  Ogalalla  Sioux — these 
women  were  always  forced  by  the  not  over  scrupulous  savages  to 


PLAINS  CHARACTERS 


363 

erect  their  lodge  or  tepee  across  some  natural  boundary  from  the 
others,  even  if  only  a buffalo  trail.  Though  they  occasionally  sold 
their  own  wives  and  daughters,  yet  it  seemed  to  be  “against  their 
medicine”  to  allow  those,  who  followed  prostitution  as  a means  of 


THE  REJECTED  SUITOR. 

living,  to  camp  amongst  them.  It  is  said  by  old  trappers  and  prairie 
men,  that  this  practice  was  at  first  adopted  by  women  of  this  class  as 
a notification,  and  afterward  became  a law  or  tribe  custom,  rigidly 
eniorcea  against  tnem. 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


864 

So  much  for  the  human  inhabitants  of  “the  plains;**  now  let  us 
attempt  a slight  description  of  the  wild  beasts,  that  roamed  their 
broad  expanse,  and  of  the  country  itself.  All  of  the  stretch  of 
country  south  of  the  South  Platte  bears  evidence  of  having  at  one 
time  been  the  bed  of  an  immense  salt  sea,  dotted  by  many  small 
and  large  islands.  I say  salt  sea,  though  the  sand  deposit  may  have 
given  to  its  present  sparse  herbage  a saline  character.  When  the 
pressure  from  this  immense  mass  of  waters  burst  its  barriers,  and 
established  channels,  by  which  it  poured  its  waters  into  the  ocean, 
none  of  its  flood  was  carried  off  by  the  Platte,  but  all  of  it  flowed 
toward  the  southeast  by  the  drainage  of  the  Arkansas,  Red  and  other 
streams  moving  in  that  direction.  This  disruption  of  its  boundaries 
was  probably  caused  by  earthquake  or  other  violent  convulsion,  and 
that  this  drainage  was  in  a southeasterly  direction,  is  evidenced  by 
the  fact,  that  all  of  the  cleavage  of  the  rocks  and  mountain  ranges  is 
toward  that  point  of  the  compass. 

On  almost  all  of  the  sand  hills,  toward  the  South  and  East,  the 
ribbing  is  as  perfect  as  can  be  found  on  the  beaches  along  the 
Atlantic  or  Pacific  coasts,  and  this  is  and  can  be  caused  only  by 
water  action — nothing  else.  Another  thing,  which  proves  that  a 
great  amount  of  water  once  laved  these  sand  hills,  (which  have 
evidently  sunk  from  a much  greater  elevation),  is  the  fact,  that  in 
their  canons  stand  forests  of  gigantic  cedars,  that  have  been  dead 
for  ages,  but  which  in  height,  girt  and  straightness  exceed  those  of 
Mount  Lebanon.  This  timber  was  cut  and  hauled  from  thirty  to 
ninety  miles  to  the  ranches,  to  be  used  as  fire-wood,  and  many  a 
pound  of  it  have  I seen  sold  to  the  “pilgrims”  and  freighters  for  three 
to  five  cent  a pound,  when  they  were  unable  to  obtain  “buffalo  (or 
bull)  chips”  for  fuel. 

From  all  the  evidences  obtainable,  these  cedars  may  have  stood 
thus  dead,  but  imperishable,  from  the  time  that  the  leaguing  masons 
builded  the  walls  of  Solomon’s  temple,  and  founded  the  mysteries 
of  their  craft;  or  his  ships  sailed  for  tribute  to  Ophir  and  to  Tar- 
shish.  The  broken  column  of  Memnon,  and  the  buried  temples  of 
Tadmor  in  the  wilderness,  with  all  of  their  immensity  of  bulk  and 
carving,  may  have  been  wrought  since  these  noble  trees  had  forever 
dropped  their  foliage. 

Babylon,  with  its  marvelous  walls  and  its  hundred  brazen  gates, 
may  not  have  been  conceived  or  builded;  Semiramis  may  not  have 


PLAINS  CHARACTERS. 


365 


dreamed  her  splendid  vision  of  guilty  ambition  and  mighty  con- 
quest; the  first  flood  of  those  entombing  sands,  that  swept  re- 
morselessly over  Thebes  and  Memphis,  may  not  have  begun  their 
encroachments  when  the  verdure  had  forever  disappeared  from  these 
tall  sentinels,  that  overlook  the  silent  desolation  which  surrounds 
them.  Certain  it  is,  that  in  this  dry,  antiseptic  air,  they  have  not 
varied,  in  the  slightest  particle,  in  the  recorded  observations  of  a 
hundred  years.  Just  as  they  are  to-day,  so — the  old  men  of  the 
Sioux  have  often  told  me — were  they  ages  ago,  when  their  ancestors 
drove  out  another  race,  and  occupied  these  hunting  grounds. 

In  such  valleys  as  that  of  the  Platte  the  grass  was  tough,  coarse 
and  luxuriant;  on  the  sand  hills,  and  such  parts  of  the  plains  as  were 
not  bare,  there  grows  a short,  crisp,  generally  curled  grass,  of  a 
dried  look  and  whitish  color.  This  was  of  two  varieties — the  buf- 
falo and  the  bunch  grasses — and  a horse,  mule  or  steer  would  leave 
the  finest  blue  grass  that  ever  grew  in  Bourbon  County,  Kentucky,  to 
nip  this  scant  and  uninviting-looking  pasturage.  Of  all  grasses  it  is 
said  by  stockmen,  who  ought  to  be  competent  judges,  to  be  the 
sweetest  and  most  nutritious. 

Along  the  rivers  grew  a very  few  cottonwood  trees,  occupied  by 
large  bunches,  which,  from  a distance,  seem  to  be  immense  nests, 
but  which,  on  a nearer  approach,  are  found  to  be  Indian  corpses; 
that  being  the  mode  of  burial  amongst  the  La  Cotahs  (Sioux). 
When  they  can’t  find  trees  in  which  to  bury , they  plant  four  poles 
and  build  a scaffold  some  ten  or  twelve  feet  from  the  ground, 
on  which  they  lay  the  bodies,  after  tightly  wrapping  them  in 
blankets  or  buffalo  robes.  (By  the  way,  La  Cotah,  and  not  Da 
Cotah,  is  the  proper  name  of  the  collective  tribes  forming  the  Sioux 
nation,  though  this  mistake  has  been  perpetuated  in  the  name  of  one 
of  our  territories).  On  the  islands  in  the  rivers  grow  a few  small 
willows;  on  plain  and  sand  hill,  cactus  and  prickly  pear.  We  have 
now  enumerated  every  green  thing,  except  the  strawberry — of  which 
I’ve  seen  beds  miles  in  extent — and  sand-hill  or  choke  cherries. 

The  game  was  the  elk,  antelope,  buffalo,  black  tail  and  white  tail 
deer,  coyotes  and  large  gray  wolves.  Adam  Poe  would  have  classed 
the  Indians  also  in  this  category.  Along  the  streams  toward  the 
East,  where  there  was  some  timber,  wild  turkeys  were  plentiful. 
The ‘‘pilgrims”  included  in  the  game  list  the  social  little  prairie- 
dogs,  whose  holes  accommodate  not  only  their  own  families,  but  also 


366 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


HAPPY  PLAINS  FAMILY  AT  HOME: 


PLAINS  CHARACTERS. 


367 


the  fierce  rattlesnakes  and  the  beautiful  little  white  burrowing  owls, 
which  happy  family  has  often  caused  me  to  speculate  on  the  part 
played  by  the  rattlesnake  in  the  domestic  economy  of  this  incon- 
gruous combination. 

Whether  his  gratitude  was  great  enough  to  cause  him  to  refuse 
tender  young  prairie-dog,  when  his  appetite  craved  something 
dainty;  or  whether  his  friendship  was  of  that  ardent  kind,  which 
would  restrain  him  from  making  free  with  the  puffy  little  squab 
owls,  when  he  came  home  in  the  humor  for  a game  supper,  has 


A PANIC  IN  CAMP AN  UNWELCOME  VISITOR. 


caused  me  frequent  cogitations.  Sometimes  it  has  occurred  to  me 
that  both  owls  and  snakes,  by  a wise  provision  of  nature,  subsist 
entirely  on  prairie-puppies,  and  thus  keep  down,  in  a degree,  the 
wonderful  fecundity  of  these  little  burrowers,  which  increase  at  a 
rate  that  discounts  that  of  arithmetical  progression. 

The  pole-cat,  or  skunk,  is  another  animal  found  in  large  numbers 
upon  these  wide  stretches  of  sand.  Conscious  of  his  own  strength , 
this  sociable  little  creature  does  not  avoid  the  society  of  men,  but 


368 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


frequently  the  dwellers  in  dug-outs,  or  tents,  have  awakened  to  find 
them  perched  upon  their  breasts,  or  endeavoring  to  get  beneath  the 
blankets  which  covered  them. 

This  is  a trying  situation.  The  ejection  of  the  unwelcome  intruder 
must  be  almost  as  rapid  as  the  lightning’s  stroke,  or  everything 
will  be  drenched  with  an  odor  not  exactly  as  pleasant  as  the  spicy 
breezes  from  “Araby  the  blest.”  Another  thing,  not  generally 
known,  is  this:  The  bite  of  the  pole-cat  is  more  surely  fatal  than 
that  of  the  cobra  or  Egyptian  asp.  No  one  has  ever  been  bitten  by 
one  of  these  animals  and  recovered ; death  by  hydrophobia  being 
inevitable  in  every  case.  No  wonder  then,  that  the  appearance  of  so 
insignificant  a creature  produces  a panic  by  no  means  proportionate 
to  its  size  and  appearance. 

After  the  advent  of  the  railroads,  came  a creature  uncouth  and 
sordid : more  avaricious  than  the  half-breed,  more  destructive  than 
the  wolf;  more  despicable  than  the  savage.  This  was  the  buffalo 
hunter,  a caricature  upon  humanity,  whose  greed  for  money  was 
such  that,  for  the  pitiful  sum  of  from  fifty  cents  to  one  dollar,  he 
would  destroy  one  of  the  noblest  game  animals,  that  a beneficient 
Creator  ever  gave  to  man’s  use.  Securing  an  abundant  living  in  a 
country  fit  for  no  agricultural  or  grazing  purpose,  here  was  a game 
that  might  have  been  preserved  for  all  time,  since  not  even  that 
most  grasping  of  all  known  things,  an  American  railway  corporation, 
could  by  any  possibility  desire  the  domain,  over  which  they  roamed. 

It  would  have  been  eminently  proper,  that  the  last  buffalo  should 
perish  by  the  arrow  of  the  last  hostile  Indian,  but  fate  works  with 
some  very  insignificant  instruments,  and  these  grand  brutes  will  soon 
be  exterminated  by  that  petty  one — infinitely  lower  than  the  lowest 
Digger — the  buffalo  hunter. 

The  advent  of  the  railroads  was  accompanied  by  much  that  was 
good,  and  much  (in  addition  to  the  buffalo  hunter)  that  was  evil. 
It  swept  away  ranchman,  stage-driver,  teamster  and  trader.  It 
banished  the  prairieman  to  the  reservations,  and  of  the  plainsmen 
made  prospectors.  He  who  before  had  ranched,  teamed  or  traded, 
now  purchased  a pole-pick,  a gold-pan,  a shovel  and  a burro , and 
turned  into  the  mountains  in  search  of  gold-placers  and  silver 
leads. 


PLAINS  CHARACTERS. 


Excitement  had  become  as  necessary  as  life;  adventure,  as  the 
breath  of  his  nostrils.  Before  this  the  mountain  man  had  lived 
mostly  upon  the  plains ; now  the  plainsmen  became  residents  of  the 
mountains.  The  Wild  Bills  and  the  Texas  Jims  at  this  era  donned 
buckskin  suits  and  paraded  as  plainsmen.  The  Machettes,  Gaws, 
Cavenders,  Cliffords,  Houstons  and  Raymonds  dropped  out  of  sight 
before  these  new  men  in  leather  fringes. 


CHAPTER  III. 


INDIAN  ATROCITIES. 


PLAINS  CITIES DEAD  MEN  FOR  BREAKFAST WELL  FILLED  GRAVEYARDS 

THE  PET  OF  THE  BUREAU A TERRIBLE  FATE THE  WESTERN  ISII- 

MAELITE OLD  BOB  CARSON HIS  LONELY  GRAVE THE  CAMP  OF 

DEATH HORRIBLE  OUTRAGES THE  INDIAN’S  REWARD INFAMY  OF 

THE  INDIAN  DEPARTMENT A REFUGE  OF  THIEVES  AND  IMBECILES 

RESPONSIBLE  FOR  RAPINE  AND  MURDER DUTY  OF  CONGRESSMEN 

ITCHING  PALMS THIEVING  AGENTS IMCOMPETENT  COMMISSIONS 

THE  AGENT’S  AGENTS JUNKETING A PASSING  PAGEANTRY THE 

EARLY  TRAPPERS THEIR  LIVES  AND  HARDSHIPS WHO  THEY  WERE 

BOGUS  PATHFINDERS THE  JESUIT GOLD  DISCOVERY A SOLI- 
TARY LIFE RUGGED  GRANDEUR EXTRAVAGANT  IDEAS MOUNTAIN 

CAMPS BONANZA  KINGS SCIENTISTS. 

Some  small  posts,  and  so-called  cities,  sprang  up  along  these  lines 
forward  as  Jonah’s  gourd,  evanescent  as  mushrooms.  These  cities 
might  lack  everything  else,  that  was  metropolitan,  but  the  inevita- 
ble brothels,  gambling  rooms  and  drinking  saloons  were  sure  to  be 
found.  Hotels,  too,  they  possessed,  grandiloquent  of  name,  but 
humble  of  structure.  Along  with  the  bills  of  fare,  at  these  caravan- 
series,  over-night’s  gossip  almost  daily  provided  “dead  men  for 
breakfast,”  and  the  hillside  graveyard,  in  its  rapidly  increasing 
tenantry  of  men,  who  had  “died  with  their  boots  on,”  became  an 
important  affair. 

In  this  ghostly  retreat,  were  laid  to  rest  the  bodies  of  those,  who 
were  brought  in  from  terminal  sections  or  beyond.  These  were 
generally  the  bodies  of  section  men,  killed  while  on  some  solitary 
errand  to  the  front,  or  some  unprotected  and  unarmed  gang  of 
track-layers,  surprised  by  the  pet  of  the  Indian  Bureau,  and  ruth- 
lessly massacred.  Often  an  alarm  would  come  in  of  “Indians,” 
andahandfull  of  troopers — too  few  to  be  dangerous,  too  green  to  be 
serviceable — would  be  sent  out  on  a scout  along  the  track.  From 
the  top  of  some  prairie  swell,  they  would  see,  vanishing  in  the  dis- 
tance, the  hard-riding  savages,  whose  light,  hardy  ponies  invariably 
distance  the  heavy  horses  of  our  cavalry. 

Nearer  at  hand,  however,  lay  evidence  that  Lo  had  been  here. 
Stretched  on  his  back,  fuller  of  arrows  than  ever  was  Indian  quiver, 

370 


THE  ROAD-MAKER ERIN’S  SON  POURS  OUT  HIS  LIFE-BLOOD  UPON  THE  THIRSTY  PLAINS. 


INDIAN  ATROCITIES 


372 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


lies  some  brawny  son  of  Erin,  or  some  fair-haired  and  golden  bearded 
descendant  of  the  old-time  Yikings.  Far  from  his  northern  home, 
beside  the  fretful  seas,  he  had  journeyed,  to  pour  out  his  life-blood 
upon  these  thirsty  sands.  His  existence  was  a round  of  hardship, 
his  death,  a tragic  rune.  But  slay  on,  western  Ishmaelite,  in  the 
great  plans  of  destiny  these  scattered  lives  are  but  as  the  drops  in  the 
ocean,  and  the  mighty  continent  will  be  belted  with  these  iron  bands, 
though  your  ire  should  be  ten  times  more  vengeful ! 

So — lying  upon  his  back,  his  body  stripped,  mutilated,  and  brist- 
ling with  arrows — did  I see  old  Bob  Carson,  a cousin  of  the  noted 
guide  and  scout,  Kit  Carson,  and  a relative  of  old  Alexander  Carson, 
one  of  the  earliest  of  the  trappers  and  traders.  Building  a ranche, 
beside  the  swiftly  flowing  waters  of  the  shallow  Platte,  the  savages 
ran  in  upon  him  and  butchered  him  without  pity,  or  remorse. 

A party  of  us  going  down  to  recover  his  body,  and  give  it  the 
rights  of  Christian  burial,  had  barely  time  to  throw  the  corpse  upon 
a horse,  one  man  mounting  behind,  and  then  the  ambushed  Sioux 
and  Cheyennes,  from  the  thick  willow  bushes  upon  the  islands  in  the 
river,  opened  a perfect  shower  of  balls  and  arrows,  but  corpse  and 
men  escaped  them,  and  Carson  now  sleeps  on  one  of  the  lonely  sand- 
hills, that  keep  a sullen  outlook  on  plain  and  trail  and  river 

Skirting  along  the  iron  pathway,  lay  broad  wagon  trails,  over 
which,  at  one  time,  went  almost  all  the  intermediate  western  com- 
merce, in  the  heavily  ballasted,  white-sailed  prairie  schooners — now 
a thing  of  the  past — one  of  our  many  reminiscences,  that  rest  upon 
the  mind  like  far-off,  pleasant  visions.  Following  these  broadly 
beaten  trails,  some  lone  and  daring  immigrants  still  journeyed,  though 
many  of  these  met  with  dread  disaster,  at  the  hands  of  Sioux  o:\* 
Cheyenne,  Arapaho  or  Kiowa.  Going  into  camp,  some  noon  or 
night,  a band  of  marauding  Indians  would  dash  up,  demand  coffee, 
whisky,  bread,  and  having  obtained  them,  make  of  the  lonely  camp- 
ground a direful  place  of  massacre.  The  men  and  children  were 
shot  down,  the  women  reserved  for  a fate  a thousand-fold  worse 
than  death,  and  passed,  as  slavish  chattels,  from  hand  to  hand,  and 
from  tribe  to  tribe,  until  rescued  by  death,  or  a tardy  government. 

Should  these  savages  ever  be  captured,  is  death  their  fate?  No — 
we  hang  the  stolid  German,  the  mercurial  Frenchman,  the  loafing 
Spaniard,  or  the  restless  American;  the  Chinaman,  the  negro,  the 
Scandinavian ; any  of  them  go  to  the  gallows  for  such  offenses,  bui 


INDIAN  ATROCITIES. 


the  indian  is  taken  to  Washington,  feted,  loaded  down  with  pres- 
ents, and  turned  loose  with  the  impression  that  these  are  the  rewards 
of  murder;  these  the  encouragement  of  outrage. 

If  the.  sms  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  were  enough  to  cause  the 
destruction  of  the  thirty  “cities  of  the  plain,”  surely  the  infamies 
of  the  Indian  department  deserve  no  less  a castigation.  If  we  dared 
the  awful  irreverence  of  doubting  the  omnipotence  of  the  Creator,  it 
would  be  to  judge  impossible  His  creation  of  an  honest  Indian  agent, 
Indian  contractor,  or  employe  of  the  Indian  Bureau. 

From  top  to  bottom  it  is  an  infamy  and  an  outrage.  It  is  respon- 
sible for  arson,  murder  and  rape;  it  is  a refuge  of  incompetents  and 
thieves,  and  it  is  a continual  reproach  to  the  decency,  honesty  and 
humanity  of  the  representatives,  that  the  American  people  send  to 
the  halls  of  Congress.  From  the  Indian  agent  the  savage  obtains 
his  supplies  of  food  to  enable  him  to  make  his  raids;  from  some 
creature  of  the  agent,  he  obtains  his  supplies  of  ammunition  and 
improved  arms,  that  make  him  more  than  a match  for  the  raw 
recruit,  that  the  American  government  enlists  from  the  city  slums, 
dignifies  by  the  name  of  soldier,  and  sends  out  to  meet  these  agile 
warriors. 

The  whole  system  of  Indian  management  is  a fraud:  the  Indian 
Department  rotten  from  outermost  edge  to  innermost  core.  Under 
the  management  of  the  army,  inefficient  as  that  is,  we  would  never 
hear  of  Indian  raids,  since  that  service  would  cut  off  their  supplies 
of  guns  and  ammunition,  restore  them  their  bow  and  arrows  for 
their  amusements,  confine  them  to  their  reservations,  and  shoot  down, 
like  rabid  wolves,  those  found  astray,  or  with  guns  in  their  hands. 

This,  of  course,  would  do  away  with  the  profits  of  the  Indian 
agent,  contractor  and  higher  officials,  whose  itching  palms  must  be 
greased,  but  then  there  is  no  sort  of  moral  obligation  on  the  people  of 
the  United  States  to  pay  taxes,  that  these  thieves  should  fatten  upon 
the  spoils.  In  this  way,  instead  of  costing  the  government  from  ten 
thousand  to  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  each,  yearly,  the  Indians 
would  not  cost  a hundred,  and  the  murder  of  white  men,  and  out- 
rage of  white  women,  would  cease. 

This,  too,  would  do  away  with  our  junketing  peace  commissions, 
composed  of  low-browed,  thick-lipped,  bottle-nosed  humanitarians, 
the  inferiors  of  the  savages  in  every  manly  trait,  and  .objects  of 
unlimited  contempt  to  these  shrewd  marauders.  Wrangling 


A TYPICAL  PEACE  COMMISSION  IN  SESSION, 


I 


INDIAN  ATROCITIES.  375 

amongst  themselves,  and  preaching  a doctrine  of  universal  peace  to 
their  savage  proteges , their  high  pretensions  and  their  poor  attain- 
ments, are  enough  to  make  “even  angels  weep.”  In  plain  view  of 
their  council  chamber,  the  American  flag  may  be  seen  flaunting  its 
showy  folds  over  that  greatest  of  all  Indian  demoralizers,  the  gin 
mill,  within  whose  odorous  walls  lurks  the  cunning  half-breed,  ready 
to  sell,  to  these  foes  of  all  white  humanity,  breech-loading  rifles  and 
fixed  ammunition.  This  creature  is  generally  the  agent,  and  often  the 
offspring  of  the  Indian  agent,  who  is  held  in  his  position  of  abused 
trust  and  betrayed  protection,  by  the  knaves  and  idiots,  who  com- 
pose these  commissions. 

This,  in  brief,  is  the  plains,  with  its  passing  pageantry  of  ranch- 
men, trappers,  traders,  squaw-men,  bull-whackers  and  savages,  that 
have — all  save  the  last — forever  passed  away,  like  the  weird  and 
dimly  seen  phantasmagoria  of  a dream.  Here  were  types  of  Ameri- 
can character,  some  of  which  are  now  extinct,  others  fast  becoming 
so,  and  with  the  rapidity  with  which  the  modern  makes  history,  these 
types  will — if  their  record  is  preserved  at  all — soon  come  to  seem 
almost  antediluvian.  Of  the  rocky  ledge,  which  formed  the  western 
boundary  of  the  plains,  we  shall  have  but  little  to  say,  as  moun- 
tain character  is  still  in  a transition  stage,  yet  we  cannot  afford  to 
pass  by,  unnoticed,  a single  phase  of  pioneer  life,  without  marring 
the  scope  and  completeness  of  our  work. 

The  hunters  of  Kentucky,  and  other  hardy  frontiersmen,  penetrat- 
ing the  wilderness  of  Missouri — when  the  former  State  had  become 
too  densely  populated  to  suit  their  fancy,  or  give  scope  to  their  pur- 
suits— followed  the  windings  of  the  muddy  river  to  its  sources  in 
the  mountains,  and  here  engaged  in  hunting  and  trapping,  varying 
these  amusements  by  an  occasional  skirmish  with  the  hostile  Indians. 
Following  the  mountain  chain  toward  the  South,  setting  their  traps 
in  the  crystal  streams  that  flowed  down  the  narrow  canons,  and 
through  the  lovely  mountain  meadows,  or  as  they  are  generally 
called  “parks — these  men  struck  the  headwaters  of  the  Arkansas  and 
followed  on  down  this  far-reaching  river,  battling  with  Sioux,  Ara- 
paho,  Kiowa  and  Comanche,  until  they  reached  the  French  or  Span- 
ish posts  on  the  border.  Some  of  them,  in  this  manner,  made  their 
way  down  the  Platte  to  the  Missouri  again,  and  down  the  latter  to 
St.  Louis. 


I 


37(1  CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

On  this  route  they  found  the  ubiquitous  Sioux,  the  Cheyenne,  the 
Pawnee,  Ponca,  Kanza  and  other  tribes.  These  trappers  were  the 
pioneers  of  the  mountains,  as  well  as  of  the  plains.  They  were  the 
Fitzpatricks,  Greens,  “Old  Bill”  Williams,  the  Sublettes,  Leroux, 
Monteau,  Jewett,  McLellan,  Bridger,  Machette,  Leo  Pallarday, 
Carson.  These  were  the  discoverers  of  the  mountain  passes,  the 
men,  whose  toil  and  adventure  paved  the  way  for  Fremont,  who, 
appropriating  their  knowledge,  assumed  the  title  of  the  “pathfinder.” 

These  are  the  heroes,  who  should  live  in  legend,  song  and  history, 
as  the  true  pioneers.  Before  them,  in  some  things;  after  them,  in 
others,  came  such  men  as  Zebulon  M.  Pike — whose  name  is  perpet- 
uated by  one  of  Colorado’s  towering  peaks — and  others  who  led 
exploring  expeditions  under  the  patronage  of  the  Government. 
These  in  turn  were  followed  by  the  trader,  the  soldier,  the  multi- 
tude. One  figure  we  came  near  omitting,  the  Jesuit.  Meek  of 
mien,  mild  of  manner,  wise,  cautious,  yet  an  indomitable  “soldier 
of  the  cross,”  his  black  robe  was  found  in  every  Indian  village. 
Good  old  Father  de  Smet — not  long  since  passed  away — typed  as 
truly  as  may  be  the  pioneers  of  his  genus. 

Luckily  for  the  adventurous  classes — as  the  frontier  became  cir 
cumscribed — new  fields  opened  up  to  them.  When  trapping  became 
a dead  vocation,  there  came  the  discovery  of  gold,  which  set  men’s 
blood  on  fire,  and  thrilled  their  nerves  as  the  electric  shock,  and 
when  the  placers  became  exhausted,  a new  pursuit  originated — “pros- 
pecting.” This  developed  a character,  unique,  homely  and  often 
uncouth,  but  always  attractive. 

The  prospector  is  a diamond  in  the  rough.  He  is  a practical  sci- 
entist, whose  experience  is  better  than  any  professor  KnowalFs 
theories.  Asking  from  the  world  but  a scanty  subsistence,  he  has 
given  to  it  millions.  He  joins  to  the  shrewdness  of  the  city  dweller, 
the  courage  of  the  hunter,  and  the  endurance  of  the  navvy.  His 
fancy  is  exhuberant,  his  language  florid,  his  garb  picturesque,  and  his 
hope  unbounded.  Upon  the  poet’s  page,  and  on  the  mimic  stage, 
we  see  him  figuring  as  the  rough-hewn  hero,  whose  honesty  and 
manly  tenderness  are,  strange  to  say,  but  little  overdrawn. 

Packing  his  burro — as  the  Mexican  pack-jack,  or  mule,  is  called — 
he  heads  away  from  the  mining  camps,  up  some  mountain  canon, 
and  toils  on  through  scenes,  whose  awful  sublimity  steals  into  his 
mind,  and  enlarges  all  his  moral  nature.  Struggling  along  over 


INDIAN  ATROCITIES. 


37? 


broken  mountains — whose  rugged  crests  are  fraught  with  the  dangers 
of  the  rock-slide  and  the  avalanche,  and  where  a single  misstep 
may  bring  a hideous  death,  by  impalement  on  the  sharp  rocks 
below — he  peers  down  into  mighty  abysses,  and  winding  through 
narrow  trails,  sees  above  him  the  towering  walls  of  nature’s  gigantic 
battlements,  whose  tops  are  draped  in  the  vestal  robing  of  everlast- 
ing snow,  and  from  some  high-perched  eyrie,  he  scans  the  far-off 
summits  of  ranges,  which  have  never  known  the  foot  of  man,  and 
whose  dreamy  outlines  seem  to  melt  into  the  fleecy  clouds  about  and 
above  them,  and  that — dim  with  the  added  distance — are  as  softly 
rounded  as  the  limbs  of  the  fairest  houris  in  Mahomet’s  paradise. 

From  his  home  amongst  the  clouds,  he  gazes  down  upon  the  lonely 
lake,  flooded  with  the  opalescent  luster  of  the  moonbeams,  and  glit- 
tering there  a sheet  of  silver,  in  an  ebon  framework  of  tree  and  rock 
and  ravine. 

The  storms  play  around  him  and  above  him  and  below  him,  and 
Into  his  mind,  no  matter  how  rude,  the  beautiful  goddess  of  nature 
implants  her  glories,  and  this  lonely,  rough  delver  becomes  a king 
amongst  men. 

Everything  about  him  is  on  the  grandest  scale.  What  wonder  is 
it,  then,  if  this  man  loses  the  habit  of  thinking  and  speaking  in  a 
small  way.  What  wonder  is  it  if  his  prospect  is  always  “a  true  fis- 
sure,” and  his  ore  always  “away  up.”  These  granite  walls  are 
incontrovertible  facts — his  utterances  are  just  as  positive.  His 
“that’s  what  it  is,”  that’s  what  it  will,”  or  “that’s  wThat  you 
must,”  (for  he  never  answers  “yes”  or  “no”)  are  fiats;  the  ipse 
dixits  of  an  emperor,  the  bulls  of  a pope.  If  he  has  a partner,  or 
as  he  would  call  him  “a  pard,”  that  partner  is  to  him  “wife,  chil- 
dren and  friends.”  If  he  be  a solitary  prospector,  then  he  lavishes 
the  wealth  of  his  affection  upon  his  burro , and  exhibits  all  of  a moth- 
er’s tender  solicitude  toward  it,  patting  it,  petting  it,  and  feeding 
it  on  the  choicest  dainties  in  the  burro  bill  of  fare ; scraps  of  gunny 
sacks,  bacon  rinds  and  tent  poles. 

When  bounteous  nature  has  been  kind,  the  prospector  works  on 
his  own  capital;  when  she  frowns,  he  operates  on  a “grub-stake,” 
that  is;  some  one  furnishes  him  with  food  and  an  outfit,  and  shares 
in  all  of  his  discoveries.  The  grub-staker  is  sometimes  a gentleman, 
often  an  extortionate  grocer,  or  other  hanger-on  to  mining  camps. 


378 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Occasionally  it  is  a laundress,  or  some  other  of  the  softer  sex,  who 
has  cast  her  fortunes  in  the  mountain  mining  camps.  Of  the  grocers, 


NIGHT  SCENE  ON  LAKE  BESSIE— HEAD  OF  EAST  FORK  OF  GUNNISON  RIVER. 

probably  the  most  fortunate,  the  most  noted  and  the  most  infamous 
example  is  H.  A.  W.  Tabor,, the  Colorado  bonanza  king,  who  made 


INDIAN  ATROCITIES. 


379 


his  first  rise  in  life  by  staking  two  Dutch  cobblers,  Hook  and 
Ritchey,  the  discoverers  of  world-famed  “Little  Pittsburg.” 

The  assay er,  too,  cuts  an  important  figure  in  the  mountains.  Most 
of  these  scientific  gentlemen  make  cheek  take  the  place  of  brains, 
and  their  whole  course  of  study  can  usually  be  summed  up  in  two 
weeks  spent  in  sweeping  out  the  laboratory  of  some  alleged  assayer. 
Starting  into  business  with  a couple  of  formulas  for  the  scorifica- 
tion  assay,  they  soon  assume  an  air  of  wisdom,  to  which  a Dana  or 
a Humboldt  would  not  dare  to  aspire.  They  then  talk  learnedly  of 
“chlorides,”  “argentiferous  galena”  and  “pyrargirites.”  Some 
of  these  “learned  Thebans”  have  found  that  a pulverized  jug- 
handle,  or  grindstone,  would  yield  from  forty  to  ninety  ounces  of 
silver  to  the  ton  ! 

The  ore  buyer,  contractor,  miner  and  engineer  are  already  the 
property  of  the  world — of  them  we  shall  say  nothing. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


ROBERT  McLELLAN. 


EARLY  PLAINS  PIONEERS A FORMER  SCOUT HIS  STRENGTH  AND  AGILITY 

KENNAN’S  FEAT INNUMERABLE  ADVENTURES RECKLESS  BRAVERY 

THE  NIGHT  ATTACK MAY  BUTCHERED WELLS  AND  M’LELLAN 

WOUNDED FOUR  INDIANS  KILLED ANOTHER  ADVENTURE THE  WHITE 

INDIAN A VENTURESOME  LEAP PROVIDENTIAL  ESCAPE CLARK 

MEETS  M’LELLAN OPINION  OF  RIVAL  TRADERS A LUCRATIVE  BUSINESS 

VALUABLE  INFORMATION TWO  PATHS  IN  LIFE PARTNERSHIP  WITH 

CROOKS ENVIOUS  RIVALS INDIAN  DEMANDS M’LELLAN’S  OBSTINACY 

MANUEL  LISA THE  SIOUX  RAID M’LELLAN’S  DARING  FEAT 

LEAVES  HIS  POST MEETS  AND  JOINS  ANOTHER  PARTY UA  SOP  TO  CERE- 

BUS” UP  THE  RIVER LA  COTAH  LAND LISA’S  PROPOSAL HUNTS’ 

ARTILLERY SALUTARY  EFFECT PRESENTS INDIAN  HYPOCRISY 

IRATE  SAVAGES THE  ARICKARAS A FRIENDLY  GREETING. 

ROBERT  M’LELLAN. 

Amongst  the  early  pioneers  of  plains  and  mountains,  was  the  man 
whose  name  heads  our  sketch,  and  who,  before  his  many  adventures 
as  trapper  and  trader,  had  dared  all  the  perils  of  Indian  warfare,  as 
a spy  and  scout,  with  “Mad  Anthony”  Wayne  and  other  American 
commanders.  He  was  one  of  the  most  hardy  men  that  ever  lived, 
was  utterly  fearless,  and  possessed  wonderful  address  and  agility. 
To  reckless  bravery  he  added  a cool  judgment,  and  was  one  of  the 
most  serviceable  scouts,  that  ever  operated  on  the  Western  border. 

Marvelous  feats  of  strength  and  agility  are  told  of  McLellan: 
Amongst  others  it  is  related  that  once,  in  Lexington,  Kentucky,  a 
yoke  of  oxen  blocked  the  narrow  street,  down  which  he  was  going. 
Instead  of  turning  out  of  the  way,  or  waiting  for  the  team  to  do  so, 
he  made  a few  rapid  bounds  and  cleared  both  oxen  with  the  greatest 
apparent  ease. 

He  was  one  of  the  fleetest  men  in  all  the  West,  being  excelled 
only  by  William  Kennan,  a Kentuckian,  one  of  whose  feats  has  been 
often  attributed  to  McLellan.  It  is  currently  reported,  and  I have 
seen  two  unimpeachable  witnesses,  who  beheld  the  action,  that  Ken- 
nan, at  a trial  of  strength  and  agility  with  other  scouts,  ran  swiftly 
for  a few  paces,  and  with  a terrific  upward  bound,  leaped  over  a cov- 
ered wagon,  at  least  eight  and  a half  feet  high. 

380 


ROBERT  M’LELLAN. 


381 


The  adventures  of  McLellan,  while  scout  with  the  army,  were 
innumerable;  scarcely  a day  or  nig1  " Kut  brought  its  dangers.  On 
one  occasion — with  his  Captain,  > , ..aam  Wells,  and  three  other 
companions — he  rode  into  a large  Indian  village  at  night,  and  after  a 
long  talk,  for  all  were  disguised  as  savages,  and  spoke  the  language 
fluently,  they  fired  on  the  Indians,  and  dashed  out  of  camp.  One 
of  them,  a brave  scout,  named  May,  was  captured,  owing  to  the  fall 
of  his  horse.  He  was  taken  back  to  the  village,  and  the  next  day  tied 
to  a tree  and  shot  to  death.  Captain  Wells  was  shot  through  the  arm, 
and  McLellan  through  the  shoulder;  the  others  escaped  unhurt.  Of 
the  Indians  four  were  killed. 

McLellan’s  adventure,  with  his  comrade  White,  at  Point  Pleasant, 
overlooking  the  Hockhocking  Valley,  has  been  already  given  in  the 
sketch  of  Miss  Washburn.  In  the  summer  of  1794,  General  Wayne 
dispatched  Captain  Wells,  with  McLellan  and  Miller,  to  the  front, 
with  instructions  to  bring  in  an  Indian  prisoner,  as  he  desired  some 
information,  that  could  be  obtained  in  no  other  way. 

Starting  confidently  forth,  they  penetrated  deeply  into  the  Shaw- 
nee country,  and  at  last  were  rewarded  by  seeing  three  savages  sit- 
ting on  a log  near  a big  fire,  at  which  they  were  cooking  some  veni- 
son. Crawling  as  closely  to  them  as  the  nature  of  the  ground  would 
safely  permit,  it  was  agreed  that  Wells  should  shoot  the  Indian  on  the 
left;  Miller,  the  one  on  the  right,  and  that  McLellan,  leaving  his 
rifle,  was  to  run  the  other  one  down  and  capture  him. 

The  carrying  out  of  this  plan  developed  a singular  providence,  as 
will  now  be  seen.  Had  it  not  been  agreed  to  spare  the  Indian  in 
the  middle,  he  would  have  fallen  beneath  the  rifle  of  Henry  Miller; 
as  it  was,  the  two  on  each  side  of  him  fell  dead  at  the  crack  of  the 
rifles,  and  before  the  central  one  could  realize  that  they  were  attacked, 
McLellan  was  bearing  down  upon  him  with  the  speed  of  the  wind. 
Darting  up  from  the  log,  the  Indian  developed  no  mean  degree  of 
speed,  but  behind  him  ran  the  swiftest  man,  at  that  time,  in  Ohio. 
Their  race  was  along  the  river,  but  seeing  how  rapidly  he  was  being 
gained  upon,  the  savage  turned  his  course,  and  heading  for  the 
stream,  without  a moment’s  hesitation,  leaped  from  its  high  bank. 

McLellan,  tomahawk  in  hand,  made  the  venturesome  leap  as 
readily  as  his  opponent,  and  on  landing  found  himself  stuck,  up  to  the 
waist,  in  the  heavy  mud.  The  Indian,  who  had  in  his  flight  secured 


382 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


only  his  knife,  now  endeavored  to  strike  it  into  McLellan’s  body, 
but  warding  it,  the  latter  raised  his  tomahawk  and  threatened,  if  the 
other  made  a move,  that  he  would  brain  him.  Seeing  how  useless 
was  further  resistance,  the  Indian  threw  away  his  knife  and  sur- 
rendered. 


On  being  pulled  out  of  the  mud  and  washed,  he  was  discovered  to 
be  a white  man,  and  was  identified  by  Henry  Miller  as  his  brother, 
Christopher.  Both  had  been  taken  by  the  Indians  when  young,  and 
Christopher  had  remained  with  them.  Taken  to  Wayne’s  head- 
quarters, he  was  confined  in  the  guard-house,  and  for  a long  time 


ROBERT  M’LELLAN. 


383 


resisted  all  attempts  at  conciliation,  even  from  his  brother.  At  last, 
however,  some  memory  of  his  former  relatives  seemed  to  return, 
and  he  joined  Wells’  company,  and  served  bravely  and  faithfully 
against  his  adopted  people. 

It  was  in  the  year  1806,  that  Meriwether  Clark — then  on  his  return 
from  the  long  and  dangerous  exploration  up  the  Mississippi,  and  to 
the  Pacific  coast — met  Robert  McLellan  ascending  the  swift  and 
muddy  waters  of  the  Missouri,  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  a 
trading  post  at  some  point  on  its  banks.  Along  with  him  were  a 
number  of  companions,  all  of  the  same  hardy  stamp  as  their  leader. 
From  McLellan,  Clark  learned  that  the  former  scout  had  determined, 
in  spite  of  the  jealousy  of  the  French  and  Spanish — who,  operat- 
ing principally  from  St.  Louis,  endeavored  to  monopolize  the  lucra- 
tive Indian  trade — to  establish  a post,  and,  he  added,  with  an  oath, 

to  “hold  it  till  h froze  over,  agin  all  the  frog  and  garlic  eaters 

in  creation.”  From  his  former  knowledge  of  the  man,  Clark  fully 
believed  that  any  attempt  on  the  part  of  rival  traders  to  drive  him 
from  the  ground,  would  be  attended  with  considerable  danger. 

McLellan  compared  the  course  of  these  people  to  the  action  of  a 
well  fed  dog,  who,  while  unable  to  utilize  all  of  the  viands  that 
nature’s  bounty  supplied,  was  determined  not  to  allow  any  of  its 
fellows  a share. 

Clark  gave  him  valuable  information  in  regard  to  the  various 
tribes  of  Indians  that  occupied  the  ground  adjacent  to  the  river 
banks,  and  warned  him  of  their  treacherous  character,  but  felt  more 
at  ease  when  he  learned  that  his  old-time  friend  had  been  pursuing, 
in  Ohio,  the  occupation  of  an  Indian  trader,  ever  since  the  cessation 
of  active  hostilities.  Parting  company  at  this  point*  the  two  friends 
were  destined  never  to  see  each  other  again ; the  path  of  one  lay  to 
the  East,  and,  if  not  exactly  strewn  with  flowers,  was  one  of  mingled 
peace  and  pleasure ; while  that  of  the  other  led  on  to  the  savage 
frontier,  and  possessed  but  little  save  toil  and  danger;  the  one  boldly 
met,  the  other  but  poorly  requited. 

On  the  upper  waters  of  the  Missouri,  McLellan  formed  a co- 
partnership with  another  adventurous  borderer,  named  Crooks,  some 
time  during  the  next  year  (1807),  and  now  they  began  to  feel  the 
effects  of  the  intermeddling  spirit  of  their  rivals.  Proceeding  up 
the  river  to  start  a new  post,  they  beheld,  at  a narrow  part  of  the 
stream,  toe  steep  bluffs  crowded  with  hostile  Sioux,  determined  to 


384 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


dispute  their  passage.  The  Indians  numbered  hundreds,  McLellan’ s 
party  but  forty,  and  it  was  plainly  to  be  seen  that  submission 
was  their  only  course.  A solitary  warrior,  splendidly  mounted, 
dashed  up  to  the  bank  and  a talk  was  had ; the  whites  patiently 
listening  to  the  demands  of  the  savages.  They  were,  that  McLellan 
should  penetrate  no  further  into  the  country,  but  might  erect  a 
post  a short  distance  down  the  stream. 

Furious  with  rage,  and  suspecting  that  this  maneuver  did  not 
originate  with  the  Indians,  McLellan  pretended  perfect  satisfaction, 
descended  the  river,  landed  his  boat,  and  began  building  a post. 
The  savages,  supposing  the  whites  perfectly  contented  with  this 
enforced  arrangement,  now  drew  off,  but  left  a guard  to  watch  the 
traders.  McLellan  had  outwitted  too  many  Indians  not  to  be  able 
to  add  these  to  the  list,  and  no  sooner  had  the  army  of  savages  got 
well  out  toward  their  villages,  than  he  hastily  loaded  up  his  boat, 
and,  by  rapid  pulling,  passed  the  dangerous  spot,  and  soon  reached 
the  place  he  had  chosen  for  his  establishment.  Upon  a Spaniard 
named  Manuel  Lisa,  an  opposition  trader,  who  was  the  cause  of  his 
detention,  he  swore  to  have  revenge  the  first  time  they  met. 

With  varying  success,  he  followed  his  business  for  several  years, 
but  at  last,  an  outbreak  of  the  Sioux,  determined  him  to  discontinue 
it.  On  one  occasion,  when  absent  from  his  post,  the  Sioux  sur- 
rounded it  in  large  numbers,  overpowered  his  men,  and  began  to 
pillage  and  carry  off  all  of  the  valuable  stores.  Returning  before 
the  work  of  spoliation  was  quite  completed,  McLellan  burst  in 
amongst  the  savages,  and  with  blazing  eyes,  and  a voice  suffused 
with  rage,  demanded  an  instant  return  of  everything  they  had  taken. 
Knowing  the  terrible  temper  and  desperate  character  of  the  man, 
the  Indians  present  hastened  to  restore  their  spoils,  but  by  far  the 
greater  portion  of  the  goods  had  already  been  carried  to  their 
village,  and  the  trader  had  to  pocket  a loss  of  some  three  thousand 

dollars.  Cursing  Indians,  Spaniards,  Frenchmen  and  “all  other  d d 

rascals,”  as  he  called  them,  he  fitted  up  his  boats  and  started  down 
the  Missouri,  to  engage  in  some  business,  where  he  could  find  more 
honorable  competitors. 

Some  time  before  this  outrage  occurred,  McLellan  and  Crooks  had 
dissolved  partnership,  and  great  was  the  surprise  of  the  ex-scout,  as 
he  was  floating  down  the  Missouri  on  his  way  to  St.  Louis,  to  find 
his  former  partner  at  the  mouth  of  the  Nodaway  River.  Rounding 


ROBERT  M’LELLAN. 


385 


in,  McLellan  tied  up  his  boat  for  the  day,  and  while  their  men 
mingled  together,  the  partners  had  a long  conversation.  From 
Crooks  he  learned  that  the  party,  with  which  the  latter  was  now  con- 
nected, was  under  the  command  of  Wilson  P.  Hunt,  one  of  John 
Jacob  Astor’s  partners  in  the  American  Fur  Company.  They  were 
bound  for  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  River,  where  they  were  to 
meet  another  part  of  the  expedition,  which  had  gone  by  sea.  They 
would  be  camped  at  their  present  location  until  spring ; would  he 
not  join  them,  and  in  a larger  field,  and  under  more  favorable  aus- 
pices, again  try  his  luck  trading  and  trapping? 

The  temptation  was  too  great  to  be  resisted,  and  giving  and 
throwing  away  all  of  his  worldly  possessions,  except  his  trusty  rifle, 
“as  a sop  to  Cerebus,”  he  joined  the  expedition,  determined,  as  he 
wrote  to  his  brother,  to  begin  the  world  anew.  On  the  21st  day  of 
April,  1811,  they  broke  camp,  and  proceeded  up  the  muddy  waters 
of  the  stream,  the  party  and  their  goods  requiring  one  large  and 
three  smaller  boats  for  their  conveyance.  The  largest  boat  carried 
a swivel  and  twTo  small  howitzers,  and  the  party  was  otherwise  well 
armed.  Pushing  along  toward  the  country  of  the  Sioux,  who  seem 
to  have  been  thoroughly  under  the  control  of  McLellan’ s old  enemy, 
Manuel  Lisa,  they  heard  that  the  latter  was  on  the  way,  and  would 
use  every  effort  to  pass  them  and  prevent  them  from  gaining  any 
benefit  from  the  trade  with  the  Indians  above. 

Just  at  the  entrance  to  the  domain  claimed  by  these  La  Cotahs, 
Hunt  received  a proposition  from  an  agent  of  Lisa’s  to  wait  for  his 
party,  enter  the  territory  together  and  share  the  trade.  Adopting  the 
opinion  of  McLellan,  who  swore  that  “the  lying  Spaniard  couldn’t 
tell  the  truth  if  he  tried,  and  couldn’t  be  honest  if  he  wanted  to,” 
Hunt  returned  by  the  messenger  an  ambiguous  answer,  and  put 
forth  every  effort  to  make  his  way  up  the  river.  Having  under- 
stood that  Lisa  had  engaged  the  Indians  to  oppose  his  progress, 
Hunt  was  not  at  all  surprised  at  seeing,  on  the  31st  day  of  May, 
immense  bodies  of  the  savages  gathered  on  the  river  bluffs,  whoop- 
ing and  yelling  like  demons,  and  armed  and  painted  for  war. 

To  retreat  was  fully  as  dangerous  as  to  advance,  and  every  man 
seized  his  arms  and  prepared  for  action.  In  order  to  intimidate  the 
Indians,  who  fear  nothing  more  greatly  than  artillery,  Hunt  had  his 
men  to  load  his  pieces  with  blank  cartridges  and  fire  them  off  several 
times  and  then,  in  full  view  of  the  now  terrified  savages,  they  loaded 


386 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


them  heavily  with  grape  and  cannister,  and  prepared  to  move  in  defi- 
ance of  them.  At  this  the  Sioux  made  signs  for  a talk,  and  Hunt, 
McLellan  and  three  others  rowed  ashore,  and  after  a smoke  and  the 


IN-KE-TEII  HOS-KAH  (LONG  MAN) THE  SIOUX  CHIEF. 


usual  ceremonies  of  the  hypocritical  savage,  an  understanding  was 
arrived  at. 

Finding  the  whites  determined  to  proceed  at  any  risk,  the  Indians 
suddenly  evinced  a perfect  willingness  to  allow  them  to  go  in  peace, 


ROBERT  M’LELLAN. 


387 


and  Hunt  also  discovered  that  he  had  especially  charged  his  memory 
with  divers  and  sundry  presents  for  his  red  brothers,  and  accord- 
ingly setting  out  several  hundred  weight  of  corn  and  a lot  of  tobacco, 
they  bade  each  other  “God  speed,”  and  the  boats  continued  on  up  the 
river. 

Two  days  later  more  Indians  were  encountered,  this  time  the  same 
on  whom  McLellan  and  Crooks  had  played  their  sharp  trick  years 
before.  Now  they  were  all  affection,  since  they  saw  that  the  whites 
were  in  force  and  feared  they  might  attempt  to  punish  them  for  their 
former  actions.  Bestowing  some  small  presents  upon  these  thieving 
creatures — after  the  pernicious  fashion  of  all  our  dealings  with  them — 
the  party  left  them,  and  again  began  to  stem  the  swift  waters.  In  a 
short  time  after  they  got  well  under  way,  they  were  surprised  by 
two  Indians  riding  up  to  the  bank,  and  in  a lordly  and  insolent 
manner,  demanding  presents  similar  to  those  obtained  by  their  com- 
rades. 

Thus  the  giving  of  tribute,  for  as  such  these  savages  regarded  it, 
was  soon  beginning  to  bear  fruit.  Hunt,  being  a man  of  great  firm- 
ness, told  them,  in  answer  to  their  insolence,  that  they  were  lucky 
to  get  off  with  their  lives,  and  that  if  they  made  any  more  such 
demands,  he  would  treat  them  as  enemies. 

At  this  rebuff,  the  Indians  set  off,  vowing  vengeance,  and  soon 
disappeared  from  sight.  The  forces  of  the  traders  were  now 
divided;  one  party  going  up  under  one  bank,  the  other  taking  the 
opposite  side,  so  that  the  members  of  each  might  act  as  look-outs  for 
those  of  the  other,  and  warn  them  of  danger.  After  proceeding  in 
this  manner  for  some  time,  they  saw  another  large  body  of  Indians 
on  one  bank  of  the  river,  and  as  the  stream  at  this  point  was  very 
shallow,  and  encumbered  with  sand-bars,  Hunt  feared  some  great 
disaster,  but  McLellan — more  familiar  with  the  savages — thought 
from  their  actions  that  they  meant  no  harm,  and  accordingly  rowed 
in  to  the  bank,  when  the  Indians,  dropping  their  arms,  came 
to  meet  them.  They  found  these  savages  to  be  a band  of  the 
Arickarees,  or,  as  they  were  then  called,  Arickaras,  who  were  at 
war  with  the  Sioux,  and  who  welcomed  the  whites  with  great 
cordiality. 


CHAPTER  Y. 


A TERRIBLE  MARCH. 


OBJECT  OF  THE  ARICKARAS UNWELCOME  NEWS LISA’S  ARRIVAL 

M’CLELLAN’S  RESTRAINT MORE  TRICKERY  OF  LISA M’CLELLAN  LAYS 

DOWN  THE  LAW A WARNING ITS  GOOD  EFFECT A TERRIBLE 

UNDERTAKING LISA’S  PROPHECY THE  BIG  HORN  MOUNTAINS THE 

FRIENDLY  CHEYENNES WELL  DESERVED  PRESENTS THE  ADIEU A 

DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  CROWS HORSE  TRADING INCREASING  DIFFICUL- 
TIES  DAYS  OF  DANGER NIGHTS  OF  TORMENT MAD  RIVER ABUN- 

DANCE OF  GAME RESUME  THEIR  JOURNEY HENRY’S  POST VOYAGE 

DOWN  MAD  RIVER THE  RAPIDS TERRIBLE  WHIRLPOOLS THE  WAY 

BLOCKED DESPERATE  CONDITION SEPARATION TWO  PARTIES 

MEET M’LELLAN  CHOSEN  LEADER BARREN  MOUNTAINS EXTINCT 

VOLCANOES TORTURES  OF  TANTALUS DYING  OF  HUNGER PLENTY 

OF  GAME  IN  SIGHT AN  IMPASSABLE  BARRIER IN  DESPAIR THE 

SNOW-STORM CAMP  OF  THE  DYING THE  LONE  BUFFALO M’LEL- 

LAN’S  SHOT A TIMELY  SUPPLY REACH  THE  COLUMBIA FATE  OF 

THE  EXPEDITION  BY  SEA ARRIVAL  OF  COMRADES. 


Of  course  there  was  an  object  in  the  profuse  welcome  of  the 
Arickaras,  and  it  was  found  to  be  the  hope  of  the  Indians,  that  they 
would  be  able  to  obtain  arms  and  ammunition,  with  which  to  war 
against  their  enemies.  The  whites  were  nothing  loth  to  supply 
them,  and  began  to  anticipate  a rich  trade,  when  the  Arickara 
spies  brought  word  that  the  boat  of  Lisa  was  rapidly  approaching. 
This  was  unwelcome  tidings,  and  for  some  time  Hunt’s  party  hardly 
knew  what  course  to  pursue.  Finally,  fearing  that  the  unscrupulous 
Spaniard  might  do  them  some  serious  damage,  if  they  did  not  come 
to  terms,  they  waited  here  until  the  arrival  of  his  boat.  This  they 
were  the  more  ready  to  do,  as  they  discovered  that  the  Indians  were 
not  so  anxious  to  trade,  since  the  report  of  Lisa’s  approach,  doubt- 
less anticipating  better  bargains  from  the  competition  of  the  two 
parties. 

When  Lisa  did  arrive,  he  could  easily  perceive  how  unwelcome  a 
visitor  he  was,  and  indeed,  it  was  with  difficulty  that  McClellan 
restrained  himself  from  putting  into  immediate  execution  the  threats 
he  had  made  years  before.  Nothing  but  the  fear,  that  he  might 
involve  Hunt  and  his  other  friends  in  his  quarrel,  prevented  him 

388 


A TERRIBLE  MARCH. 


389 


from  avenging  his  former  injuries  upon  the  knavish  trickster.  It 
was  agreed,  however,  in  the  ensuing  conference  between  Hunt  and 
Lisa,  that  they  should  go  together  to  the  villages,  and  that  no  advan- 
tage should  be  taken  in  making  the  trade,  and  after  a short  delay, 
to  enable  Lisa’s  other  boats  to  arrive,  they  proceeded  together  up 
the  river. 

That  Lisa  had  not  given  over  his  trickery  was  soon  proved.  In 
the  employ  of  Hunt  was  a Erench-C&nadian,  who  had  formerly  been 
in  the  service  of  Lisa,  as  an  interpreter,  and  who  was  yet  in  debt 


m’lellan  and  crooks. 


to  Lisa,  so  the  latter  claimed.  On  the  way  up  the  river,  Lisa  began 
tampering  with  this  man,  and  endeavored  by  threats  and  promises, 
to  induce  him  to  forsake  Hunt.  This  conduct  infuriated  McLellan, 
and  seizing  his  gun,  he  gave  the  Spaniard  his  opinion  of  him,  and 
swore  if  he  was  armed  that  he  would  have  killed  him.  He  reminded 
him  that  he  had  some  old  scores  to  settle,  and  advised  him  to  get 
his  gun  and  fight  it  out  like  a man,  rather  than  be  shot  down  like  a 

d°g- 


390 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Hunt,  Crooks  and  others  finally  succeeded  in  pacifying  the  old 
scout,  but  not  before  he  had  given  Lisa  warning,  that  the  next  occa- 
sion for  a quarrel  would  produce  a dead  man,  and  that  if  he  intended 
to  do  any  more  of  his  dirty  work,  he  had  better  keep  his  arms 
by  him,  for  the  next  time  he  picked  up  his  gun  to  him,  he’d  “burn 
powder,  if  he  died  the  very  next  moment.”  This  warning  had  a 
good  effect,  and  in  his  subsequent  dealings  with  Hunt’s  party,  Lisa 
was  careful  not  to  excite  the  ire  of  McLellan. 

The  trade  accomplished  at  this  point,  Hunt’s  party  set  about  their 
onerous  undertaking  of  crossing  through  the  Rocky  Mountains  to 
the  Pacific  Coast.  Securing  eighty-two  pack-horses,  the  party, 
sixty-two  in  number,  broke  camp  and  turned  their  faces  toward  the 
unknown  country,  that  lay  between  them  and  the  far-off  shores  of 
the  placid  Pacific.  It  was  a gigantic  undertaking,  full  of  all  man- 
ner of  dangers  and  difficulties,  and  even  the  hardy  and  adventurous 
Lisa,  as  he  saw  them  set  out,  said:  “They  are  all  dead  men — all 
dead  men  ! ’ ’ 

Pushing  on  up  the  tiresome  windings  of  the  river,  they  passed 
steep  bluffs  and  level  valleys ; now  their  way  lay  beside  peaceful 
streams;  anon  it  bore  across  steep  hills  and  jagged  rocks.  After 
some  days  they  came  across  a tribe  of  Indians,  living  about  the 
waters  of  the  Big  Horn  Mountains,  and  contrary  to  their  expecta- 
tions, were  well  received  and  hospitably  treated.  These  were  the 
war-like  Cheyennes,  then  dwelling  upon  the  upper  Missouri,  later 
still  driven  to  the  Black  Hills, where,  from  the  Cheyenne  River,  they 
obtained  their  name;  having  formerly  been  known  as  the  Mahas, 
or  Wolves. 

From  here,  still  later,  they  were  received  under  the  protection  of 
the  Ogalalla  Sioux,  and  allowed  a hunting  ground  on  the  head  waters 
of  the  Republican  River.  They  are  typical  Indians:  lithe,  slender 
and  rather  small, with  hatchet  faces  and  often  dusky,  brown  hair  and 
wolf- gray  eyes. 

Bidding  adieu  to  their  hosts,  after  bestowing  upon  them  well- 
deserved  presents,  they  pressed  on  toward  the  Big  Horn  Mountains, 
and  next  fell  in  with  the  thieving  Crows.  These  savages  possess 
every  vice  of  their  race,  without  a single  virtue.  They  are  as  sav- 
age as  the  Apaches,  as  cowardly  as  the  Pueblos,  as  filthy  as  the  Dig- 
gers, as  lazy  as  the  Soshones,  as  quarrelsome  as  the  Kiowas,  and  as 
treacherous  as  the  Comanches — in  fact,  they  are  Crows  ! Effecting, 


A TERRIBLE  MARCH. 


391 


by  much  maneuvering,  a trade  of  their  foot-sore  horses  for  some  of 
the  Indians’  sound  ones,  the  white  men  resumed  their  toilsome 
march. 

Day  by  day  their  difficulties  increased.  Up  over  the  almost 
insurmountable  range  they  picked  their  way  painfully.  There  were 
steep  ascents,  deep  canons,  and  brawling  streams  to  cross.  Down 
almost  perpendicular  walls  men  and  goods  and  horses  must  be  taken. 
Now  the  way  would  be  obstructed  for  miles  with  down  timber,  over 
and  through  whose  intricate  mazes  they  must  force  their  way. 
Thousands  of  gnats,  flies  and  mosquitoes  attacked  men,  as  well  as 
horses,  and  rendered  life  almost  intolerable.  The  blazing  heat  of 
the  day,  with  its  winged  plagues  and  its  incessant  toils,  was  suc- 
ceeded by  nights,  whose  chill  winds,  in  the  middle  of  the  summer, 
almost  froze  the  marrow  in  the  bones  of  the  exhausted  travelers. 

At  last  they  reached  the  head  waters  of  Mad  River,  and  followed 
it  slowty  and  painfully  down,  until  they  came  to  immense  prairies, 
covered  with  large  herds  of  buffalo  and  other  game.  Here  they 
rested  for  some  time,  and  employed  themselves  in  killing  and  jerk- 
ing buffalo.  After  securing  all  the  meat  they  could  carry,  they 
again  set  out  on  their  journey.  Some  of  the  men  were  sick,  all 
became  foot-sore,  they  had  lost  a number  of  their  horses,  and  they 
now  almost  despaired  of  ever  reaching  their  destination.  The  horses 
they  still  possessed  were  rapidly  giving  out,  and  the  men  themselves 
had  become  hopeless  and  dispirited.  It  looked  as  if  the  Spaniard’s 
prophecy  was  about  to  be  fulfilled. 

The  year  before,  an  adventurous  trader,  named  Henry,  had  estab- 
lished a post  on  Mad  River,  but  becoming  disgusted,  had  abandoned 
it.  This  place  Hunt’s  men  reached  on  the  8th  day  of  October,  and 
here  they  stopped  for  ten  days,  to  recruit  themselves.  While  at  this 
point  they  built  canoes,  and  having  employed  two  Indians  to  look 
after  their  horses — which  they  now  concluded  to  leave— they  com- 
mitted themselves  to  the  rapid  current  of  Mad  River,  or  Snake 
River,  as  it  is  called  below  its  junction  with  Henry’s  Fork.  For 
something  over  a hundred  miles  they  found  their  progress  easy  and 
swift,  but  all  at  once  they  saw,  to  their  dismay,  that  below  them 
were  dangerous  rapids. 

Dashing  through  the  first  of  these,  they  made  up  their  minds  to 
risk  a further  trial  of  them,  and  continued,  until  one  disaster  after 
another  warned  them  to  desist.  Still  hoping  that  they  might  find  it 


392 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


navigable  below,  they  toiled  on,  until  they  saw  that  its  descent 
became  more  and  more  rapid,  its  falls  higher,  and  that  hideous 
whirlpools  existed,  in  whose  furious  vortices  no  boat  could  hope  to 
live.  They  found  it  surging  angrily  between  high  canon  walls,  its 
bed  studded  with  immense  jagged  boulders,  and  its  foam-covered 
channel  a torrent  as  dangerous  as  the  Norway  Maelstrom. 

This  way  their  journey  was  blocked.  Back  to  Fort  Henry  it  was 
over  three  hundred  miles — to  that  they  could  not  now  return  for 
their  horses.  Their  plight  was  desperate,  and  but  a single  course 
was  open  to  them — that  was  to  endeavor  to  strike  the  waters 


UPPER  FALLS  OF  MAD  RIVER. 

of  the  Columbia,  by  a march  through  the  unbroken  wilderness. 
With  but  a few  days’  supplies  of  provisions  left,  that  large  body 
could  not  hope  to  subsist  off  of  the  game  they  might  meet,  and 
Hunt,  after  counseling  with  McLellan,  Crooks  and  McKenzie,  con- 
cluded to  divide  up  the  party,  which  he  did,  as  follows:  To 
McLellan  he  gave  three  men,  to  Crooks  five,  and  to  McKenzie  the 
same  number. 

The  first  was  to  continue  down  Snake  River ; Crooks  was  to  make 
his  way  up  the  river  to  Fort  Henry,  and  McKenzie  was  to  seek  a 


A TERRIBLE  MARCH. 


393 


passage  across  to  the  Columbia.  Any,  or  all  of  them,  striking  sup- 
plies or  assistance,  were  to  return  to  the  main  body,  which  Hunt 
would  hold  at  the  present  camp  until  they  came,  or  until  he  was 
convinced  that  they  had  failed  in  their  efforts.  If  successful,  they 
would  join  forces  and  make  a determined  attempt  to  reach  the  Colum- 
bia River,  and  by  that  means  join  their  comrades,  who  had  sailed, 
by  sea,  for  its  mouth. 

Let  us  follow,  briefly,  the  fortunes  of  each  party.  Starting  out 
on  his  assigned  course,  McLellan  found  its  difficulties  increase  day 
by  day,  and  after  toiling  wearily  across  the  mountain  crags  and 
peaks  for  some  days,  he  overtook  the  party  under  McKenzie. 

It  was  a happy  meeting,  for  McLellan’ s men  had  found  the  vol- 
canic ranges  so  bare  of  subsistence,  that  they  had  not  fallen  in  with 
a single  living  creature  and,  having  exhausted  their  small  supply  of 
jerked  buffalo,  they  were  almost  famished.  McKenzie  had  been 
slightly  more  fortunate  and  was  enabled  to  relieve  the  necessities 
of  his  comrades.  These  two  parties  now  united,  and  McLellan  was 
chosen  for  leader.  They  were  still  amongst  the  barren  walls  and 
extinct  craters  of  gigantic  volcanoes,  whose  scoriae  rivers  had  hard- 
ened into  every  fantastic  shape  of  man  and  bird  and  beast. 

Through  the  appalling  clefts  and  fissures  of  its  canoned  walls,  the 
furious  torrent  of  Snake  River  dashed  and  foamed  and  roared, 
while  upon  its  very  brink,  these  despairing  toilers  almost  perished 
with  thirst.  There,  within  plain  view,  looking  like  a snow-white 
ribbon,  from  its  foam  and  distance,  was  unlimited  water;  while  here, 
upon  the  river’s  dizzy  brink,  these  fevered  wretches  writhed  in 
agony  as  great  as  that  of  fabled  Tantalus. 

To  the  tortures  of  thirst  were  added  those  of  hunger,  and,  as  if 
to  still  further  heighten  their  torment,  upon  the  opposite  bank  could 
often  be  seen  the  sturdy  bison  and  the  bounding  deer.  Upon  the 
side  traveled  by  them  was  no  living  creature  beside  themselves; 
even  the  most  loathsome  birds  seemed  to  shun  its  awful  desolation, 
and  the  bravest  of  the  trappers  gave  way  to  despair.  Not  all ! 
McLellan,  with  that  indomitable  nerve,  trained  in  a hundred  com- 
bats with  his  savage  foemen,  and  hardened  by  untold  endurance, 
still  hoped  on,  and  to  the  last  cheered  his  feebler  comrades. 

They  had  a few  beaver  skins  with  them — these  he  cut  into  strips, 
and  roasting  them  for  food,  they  went  forward  for  a few  days  lon- 
ger— -at  last  these  were  exhausted^  and  then  came  a terrible  snow 


394 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


storm,  through  which  they  staggered  along  like  uncanny  specters 
from  the  gloomy  Styx.  The  storm  continued,  and  worn  and  fam- 
ished, all  gave  up  hope,  and  lay  down  beneath  a sheltering  ledge  of 
rock  to  await  the  death  they  considered  inevitable.  Even  McLellan, 
the  man  of  iron,  besought  some  of  his  comrades  to  take  his  rifle  and 
end  his  days. 

All  now  was  gloom  and  horror,  in  this  camp  of  the  dying — no  one 
moved — men  spoke  only  in  whispers,  and  their  talk  was  of  dying 
and  graves.  A few  hours,  they  sigh,  and  the  angel  of  death  will  be 
of  their  number.  A few  hours,  and  he  will  reign  supreme,  beneath 
that  snow-capped  ledge,  amongst  these  hopeless  men.  But  for  this 
time  it  is  not  written.  Looking  out  from  his  rocky  shelter,  the  keen 
eyes  of  McLellan  behold  a buffalo,  cowed  by  the  storm,  and  crouch- 
ing for  shelter  within  the  lee  of  a high  bluff.  Noting  the  direction  of 
the  wind,  McLellan  crawls  against  it,  until  he  is  near  enough  to  risk 
a shot.  There  is  no  tremor  of  his  firm  nerves  now — again  he  is  the 
man  of  iron.  Taking  a good  sight,  he  touches  the  trigger,  and  the 
noble  animal  falls  with  a bullet  through  his  heart. 

To  make  his  way  to  the  animal,  and  with  an  almost  superhuman 
effort  to  turn  him  over,  so  that  he  might  roll  down  the  hill,  were  but 
the  work  of  a moment.  To  the-  carcass  the  dying  men,  unable  to 
walk,  crawl  eagerly  on  hands  and  knees,  and  but  for  the  old  scout, 
would  have  gorged  themselves  on  the  raw  flesh,  at  the  risk  of  their 
lives.  Showing  them  the  necessity  of  restraint,  he  made  a rich  broth 
and  they  fed  on  that,  until  they  had  partly  regained  their  strength. 
This  timely  supply  served  them,  for,  by  the  strictest  economy,  they 
succeeded  in  making  this  meat  last  until  they  reached  the  Columbia. 
Here  they  were  enabled  to  obtain  canoes  and  additional  supplies,  and 
soon  reached  Astoria,  where  they  found,  that  the  other  party  had 
only  reached  the  Pacific  coast  to  be  massacred  by  hostile  Indians. 
At  a point  some  distance  above  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia,  the  sav- 
ages had  induced  them,  under  some  pretense,  to  enter  the  mouth  of 
a small  river,  where  their  vessel  ran  aground,  and  they  were  over- 
powered and  every  man  killed.  It  was  between  five  and  six  weeks 
before  Hunt  and  his  half-starved  men  arrived,  and ‘nearly  four 
months  before  *Nfooks  and  his  party  reached  the  post. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


ON  THE  RETURN. 


HUNT’S  DETERMINATION M’LELLAN’S  DISSATISFACTION HIS  OBSTINACY 

THE  RETURN  PARTY THIEVISH  SAVAGES M’LELLAN’S  STRATAGEM 

THE  NIGHT  PORTAGE FURIOUS  INDIANS THE  ATTACK M’LELLAN’S 

COURAGE A DESPERATE  CHARGE RETREAT  TO  ASTORIA REED  BADLY 

WOUNDED DISPATCHES  LOST ANOTHER  PARTY  SETS  OUT STUART  IN 

CHARGE CROOKS  ALSO  DISSATISFIED  WITH  HUNT JOINS  THE  RETURN 

PARTY A NEW  ROUTE VISIT  THEIR  CACHE FIND  IT  ROBBED A 

BARREN  LAND  THE  CROW  COUNTRY THE  TWO  SPIES NARROW 

ESCAPE  FROM  MASSACRE LOOSE  ALL  OF  THEIR  HORSES CACHE  THEIR 

PACKS JOURNEY  ON  FOOT ABUNDANCE  OF  GAME REACH  MAD  RIVER 

THE  BLACKFEET -TAKE  TO  THE  MOUNTAINS M’LELLAN’S  RAGE 

DISCARDS  HIS  BURDEN. 


Hunt  determined,  soon  after  his  arrival,  to  send  a party  overland 
to  notify  Astor  of  the  loss  of  the  detachment  under  Captain  Thom, 
and  McLellan,  dissatisfied  with  the  small  interest  he  had  in  the  com- 
pany, concluded  to  return  to  St.  Louis,  unless  he  could  obtain  a 
larger  share.  To  this  Hunt  would  not  consent,  and  when  the  party 
under  command  of  the  Company’s  clerk,  John  Reed,  set  out, 
McLellan  accompanied  them.  Age,  privations  and  disappointments 
had  changed  his  strong  will  to  obstinacy,  and  his  firm  courage  to 
desoerate  recklessness,  and  though  his  friends  begged  him  not  to 
again  subject  himself  to  the  dangers  from  which  he  had  just  escaped, 
he  swore  that  he  intended  to  return,  and  that  no  earthly  power  could 
prevent  him,  and  on  the  22d  day  of  March,  1812,  he  turned  his  back 
upon  Astoria  and  set  out  on  the  dangerous  journey. 

This  party  of  seventeen  men  ascended  the  Columbia  to  its  falls  in 
canoes,  and  were  here  preparing  to  make  the  portage,  when  they 
were  surrounded  by  several  hundred  Indians.  Under  the  lead  of 
McLellan,  the  men  made  a bold  stand,  and  the  savages,  with  loud 
protestations  of  friendship,  ceased  hostilities.  Mingling  with  the 
white  men,  they  offered  to  carry  their  goods  around  the  rapids,  but 
McLellan,  being  confident  that  they  only  wanted  an  opportunity  to 
steal,  told  them  to  take  up  the  canoes,  and  then,  as  night  wTas  com- 
ing on,  informed  them  that  they  might  carry  the  goods  up  the  next 

395 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


39  (5 


day.  Thinking  that  the  whites  had  no  idea  of  their  intentions,  most 
of  the  savages  retired  to  their  village  across  the  river,  leaving  a few 
on  the  same  side  with  the  white  men. 

Allowing  the  men  a short  sleep,  McLellan  watched  until  the  moon 
rose,  and  waking  the  others,  they  began  carrying  the  goods  around 


FOUNDING  OF  ASTORIA. 


the  falls.  Owing  to  the  difficulties  in  their  way,  day  was  breaking 
before  they  had  completed  their  task,  and  the  savages  found  out 
what  they  were  doing.  In  a few  minutes  a hundred  of  them  had 
crossed  the  river,  and  were  rushing  fiercely  to  where  Reed  and 
McLellan  stood  watching  the  last  of  the  freight.  Approaching  the 


ON  THE  RETURN. 


397 


two  men,  furious  with  anger,  the  Indians  complained  of  being  thus 
robbed,  and  one  of  them,  with  an  immense  club,  knocked  Eeed 
senseless.  Another  ran  to  McLellan,  who  stood,  rifle  in  hand, 
watching  him.  When  near  the  old  scout,  the  Indian  attempted  to 
dash  a buffalo  robe  in  his  face,  at  the  same  time  making  a vicious 
blow  at  him  with  a knife.  Skillfully  evading  both  blind  and  blow, 
McLellan  coolly  sighted  his  rifle  and  shot  the  savage  dead.  Hearing 
at  the  same  time  a noise  behind  him,  he  wheeled,  pistol  in  hand, 
and  killed  another  Indian,  who  was  on  the  point  of  shooting  him. 

At  this  critical  moment  the  other  men  came  up,  and  one  of  them 
shot  the  savage,  who  had  knocked  down,  and  was  just  about  to  brain 
Eeed  with  his  tomahawk.  Terrified  at  the  desperate  courage  of  the 
white  men,  the  Indians  began  to  fall  back,  and  heading  a charge, 
McLellan  put  the  entire  band  to  flight.  It  was  now  found  that  Eeed 
was  severely  hurt,  and  the  dispatches  which  he  carried  in  the  bright, 
new  tin  box,  had  been  taken  by  the  Indians,  who  fancied  that  the 
concern  must  be  of  inestimable  value,  from  the  care  the  leader  of 
the  party  took  of  it.  Proceeding  to  a post  above,  where  they  had 
been  ordered  to  leaves  supplies,  Eeed’s  party  returned  from  there 
to  Astoria,  as  it  was  useless  to  go  on  without  the  dispatches. 

Thinking  it  imperative  that  he  should  notify  Astor  of  the  fate  of 
the  other  division,  Hunt  determined  to  send  another  party  out,  and  on 
the  25th  day  of  June,  1812,  Eobert  Stuart  was  selected  for  the  pur- 
pose. He  was  to  take  four  good  men,  and  in  addition,  McLellan 
again  announced  his  intention  of  accompanying  them.  This,  though 
welcome  news  to  Stuart  and  his  men,  did  not  at  all  please  those  at 
Astoria,  but  nothing  could  deter  him.  Crooks  also  had  become  dis- 
satisfied with  Hunt,  and  he,  too,  joined  the  small  party,  and  on  the 
day  mentioned,  they  set  out  by  boat  up  the  Columbia. 

At  the  mouth  of  the  Walla-Walla  they  left  their  crafts,  and  from 
here  determined  to  make  the  trip  overland.  They  succeeded  in  buy- 
ing horses  from  the  Indians,  and  started  for  Hunt’s  camp,  on  Snake 
Eiver,  in  order  to  get  the  goods,  cached  there  the  year  before. 
Although  they  suffered  severely  on  their  journey  through  the  wil- 
derness, yet  it  was  nothing  like  so  dangerous,  or  so  full  of  hardships, 
as  had  been  the  route  from  there  to  the  Columbia.  They  took  a more 
direct  course,  missed  some  of  the  most  difficult  ranges,  and,  although 
again  forced  to  scrape  the  fur  from  buffalo  and  beaver  skins,  and 


398 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


eat  them  in  order  to  keep  from  starving,  yet  they  soon  found  game, 
and  were  not  reduced  to  such  terrible  sufferings  as  on  their  former 
trip. 

On  the  29th  day  of  August  they  reached  their  former  camp,  and 
here  they  found  that  the  Indians  had  secured  the  greater  part  of  the 
buried  goods.  Unearthing  what  remained,  they  proceeded  on  their 
way,  aiming  to  travel  directly  toward  Bear  Biver,  hoping  to  thus 
avoid  the  difficulties  of  their  trip  down  Snake  Biver,  when  coming 
from  the  east.  Pressing  forward  with  all  speed,  they  soon  entered 
a barren  country,  in  which  they  could  find  no  game,  except  a few 
small  trout  in  the  rivers,  and  again  they  experienced  the  horrors  of 


A CAMP  OF  CROW  INDIANS. 


famine.  To  add  to  the  dangers  of  their  situation,  they  had  now 
struck  the  country  of  the  rapacious  Crows,  as  sly,  voluble  and  thiev- 
ish as  their  feathered  namesakes. 

Beturning  to  one  of  their  camps  from  a hunting  trip,  McLellan 
saw  two  of  these  thieves,  secreted  behind  some  high  rocks,  watching 
them.  Their  carefulness  was  now  redoubled,  and  this  precaution 
was  fully  justified,  for  on  the  morrow,  a large  band  of  these  Indians 
came  into  the  camp,  and  only  the  fact  of  the  trappers  being  on 
guard,  prevented  a massacre  of  the  entire  party.  For  six  days 
these  marauders  traveled  with  them,  pilfering  any  little  articles  they 


ON  THE  RETURN. 


399 


could,  and  the  sixth  night  they  came  into  the  camp  and  stole  every 
horse  in  it.  Their  march  through  this  inhospitable  country  had 
been  sufficiently  toilsome  before ; now  it  was  appalling;  still  they 
would  not  despair.  Selecting  from  their  packs  only  such  things  as 
were  absolutely  necessary,  they  proposed  to  cache  the  rest. 

While  engaged  in  this  work,  one  of  the  men  came  in  and  reported 
two  spies  watching  them.  At  this,  McLellan  swore  furiously,  that 
no  thieving  Crow  should  get  anything  of  his,  unless  they  took  his 
scalp  first,  and  gathering  large  quantities  of  dry  wood,  they  straight- 
way burned  everything  that  they  could  not  carry,  and  then  set  off, 
McLellan  saying  he  now  felt  satisfied,  since  he  had  been  able  to  get 
some  revenge  out  of  these  thieving  savages. 

Starting  out  immediately,  they  met  with  fair  success  in  hunting, 
for  some  ten  or  twelve  days,  and  then  struck  Mad  River,  which,  for 
a short  distance  they  navigated  on  rafts,  but  on  the  29th  day  of 
September,  they  again  deserted  the  river,  and  took  up  their  march 
through  the  almost  desert  country.  They  were  now  in  the  land 
of  the  Blackfeet,  a tribe  whose  repute  is  almost  as  ill  as  that  of 
their  neighbors,  the  Crows.  The  whites  had  been  making  their  way 
through  the  plain,  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain  range,  but  here,  for 
fear  of  meeting  wandering  bands  of  Blackfeet,  they  decided  to  cross 
through  the  mountains. 

This  decision  was  a cruel  blow  to  McLellan,  and  bitterly  did  he 
fight  against  it.  He  told  them  that  there  was  no  more  danger  on 
the  plains  than  in  the  mountain;  that,  for  every  man  killed  by  the 
Blackfeet,  there  would  be  two,  who  would  break  their  necks  by  fal- 
ling into  canons;  that  for  himself,  he  would  rather  be  comfortably 
killed  by  the  Indians,  than  worried  to  death  crossing  the  moun- 
tains, of  which  he  had  already  got  enough  to  last  him  a life-time. 
Seeing  himself  outvoted,  the  old  man  sulkily  gave  in,  and  started 
after  the  others  up  the  steep  .mountain  sides,  fretting  and  mur- 
muring as  he  went.  The  higher  he  ascended,  the  more  his  rage 
increased,  and  with  a sudden  fury  he  took  the  traps  off  of  his  back, 
and  threw  them  half  way  down  the  mountain. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


DEATH  OP  McLELLAN. 


A GENERAL  FAVORITE -M’LELLAN’S  IRRITABILITY A SAD  ADIEU ALONE 

IN  THE  WILDERNESS THE  ONWARD  MARCH THE  SIGHT  FROM  THE  MOUN- 
TAIN TOP STUART’S  TRIBUTE A DESERTED  LAND A MEAGER  MEAL 

TRACES  OF  M’LELLAN DESPAIR  OF  STUART’S  MEN THE  DISTANT 

CAMP-FIRE THE  MESSENGER NEWS  OF  M’LELLAN THE  RESCUE 

THE  TERRIBLE  PROPOSAL THE  CANADIAN  REBUKED FORTUNE  SMILES 

FEARFUL  ANTICIPATIONS HOSPITABLE  INDIANS THEIR  KINDNESS 

THE  APPROACHING  WINTER NEARING  THE  PLATTE  RIVER PLENTY 

OF  GAME THE  LOG  CABIN PROVIDING  FOR  THE  FUTURE SUR- 
ROUNDED BY  SAVAGES- M’LELLAN’S  JOY NEGOTIATIONS BETWEEN 

TWO  FIRES CONCLUDE  TO  REMOVE SUFFER  GREATLY — — ANOTHER 

CAMP THE  COMING  OF  SPRING TRY  CANOEING UNFIT  FOR  NAVIGA- 
TION  THE  TRAMP  TO  THE  MISSOURI PLENTY  OF  GAME STALE  NEWS 

LISA’S  DEAD  MEN M’LELLAN  OPENS  A STORE  AT  CAPE  GIRARDEAU 

HIS  DEATH  AT  THAT  POINT. 


Notwithstanding  his  irritability,  McLellan  was  a favorite  with 
every  one,  and  they  remonstrated  with  him  in  all  gentleness;  Stuart 
offering  him  a load  of  jerked  meat  instead  of  the  traps,  to  carry.  This 
he  threw  on  the  ground  contemptuously,  saying  that  a hunter  ought 
to  be  able  to  kill  his  own  meat  as  he  went  along,  without  having  to 
carry  a horse’s  load  of  dried  beef  on  his  back.  His  temper,  warming 
with  his  discourse,  he  cursed  them  for  a pack  of  cowardly  fools, 
who  would  rather  climb  mountains  than  tight  Indians,  and  he  said, 
positively,  he  would  go  no  further  with  them. 

This  little  outbreak  seemed  to  relieve  his  spirits,  and  kindly  bid- 
ding them  adieu,  he  started  down  the  mountain,  and  set  out  on  his 
solitary  journey,  without  once  looking  back.  The  sadness  of  his 
comrades  at  seeing  the  brave,  old  fellow  devote  himself  to  a lonely 
and,  as  they  supposed,  certain  death,  almost  induced  them  to  follow 
on  and  overtake  him,  but  the  danger  was  too  great,  and  again  they 
began  the  ascent  of  the  rugged  mountain. 

From  its  top  they  looked  off  onto  the  wide-reaching  plain,  whose 
lonely  monotony  struck  them  with  a sense  of  horror,  and  afar  in  the 
distance  they  beheld  a tiny  atom  moving  along  over  its  sandy  sur- 
face. “There  boys,”  said  Stuart,  “goes  the  last  of  the  old  pioneers 

400 


DEATH  OF  m’lELLAN. 


401 


of  the  Kentucky  border.  You  will  never  see  him,  nor  his  like 
again.”  All  now  walked  on  in  silence,  their  eyes  suspiciously  moist. 

They  continued  their  march  through  these  mountains  for  eleven 
days,  living  solely  upon  game  caught  in  their  traps,  as  they  feared, 
by  the  firing  of  guns,  to  bring  their  enemies  upon  them.  On  they 
toiled  until  at  last  they  had  entered  a barren  region,  in  which  no  liv- 
ing thing  was  to  be  seen.  Even  the  coyote , or  prairie  wolf,  that  ever 
present  animal,  had  vanished — desolation  reigned  supreme.  They 
now  came  across  a camp,  and  by  the  side  of  the  dead  fire,  they 
found  the  clean-picked  bones  of  a wolf.  From  the  sign  they  sup- 
posed that  but  one  man  had  camped  there,  and  they  immediately 
concluded  that  it  must  have  been  their  old  comrade,  McLellan. 

Stumbling  along,  weak,  footsore  and  dejected,  they  could  look  for- 
ward to  nothing  but  starvation  and  misery,  and  with  a boldness  born 
of  desperation,  they  now  eagerly  sought,  what  before  they  had  so 
anxiously  shunned.  They  kept  a lookout  for  Indian  camp-fires,  and 
determined  to  throw  themselves  upon  the  mercy  of  the  malicious 
Blackfeet,  preferring  even  death  at  their  hands,  to  further  torture  by 
hunger  and  thirst.  Soon  after  this  determination,  they  saw  a fire 
ahead,  and  sending  one  of  their  number  on,  the  rest  went  into  camp 
for  the  night.  Their  messenger  did  not  return  that  evening,  and  not 
knowing  or  caring  what  his  reception  might  have  been,  they  started 
the  next  morning,  in  the  direction  of  the  fire. 

On  the  way  they  met  their  comrade  hastening  to  them,  and  he 
informed  them  that  the  camp-fire  was  that  of  old  Bob  McLellan, 
who  was  lying  by  it,  in  a dying  condition.  Beaching  their  comrade, 
they  found  that  despair  had  taken  entire  possession  of  him,  but 
after  some  time  they  got  him  to  his  feet,  and  relieving  him  of  his 
rifle  and  other  effects,  they  journeyed  wearily  on,  making  nearly 
twenty  miles  that  day.  At  night  they  saw  several  antelope,  but 
were  unable  to  get  a shot  at  them.  It  was  now  forty-eight  hours 
since  they  had  tasted  food,  and  at  this  point  came  what  was  to  have 
been  expected,  a proposition  for  a cannfbal  repast. 

To  the  credit  of  the  American  trappers,  be  it  said,  that  this  sug- 
gestion came  from  a French-Canadian,  who  approached  Stuart,  and 
said  that,  as  it  was  the  only  chance  for  escape,  they  ought  to  draw 
lots,  in  order  to  see  who  should  die,  that  the  others  might  live.  The 
more  surely  to  enlist  Stuart  on  his  side,  the  fellow  said,  that  as  he 


402 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


(Stuart)  was  the  leader  of  the  party,  he  should  be  exempt  from 
the  necessity  of  drawing. 

To  his  proposal,  Stuart  told  him,  that  if  they  must  die,  he  pro- 
posed that  they  should  die  like  men,  and  not  like  carniverous,  car- 
rion birds,  preying  upon  human  flesh,  and  he  warned  him  that  if  he 
heard  any  more  of  this  horrible  thing,  he  would  blow  his  brains  out 
without  compunction.  The  fellow  slunk  out  of  sight,  and  the  sub- 
ject was  not  again  mentioned. 

The  next  day,  which  must  have  been  their  last,  had  they  met  with 
no  succor,  fortune  once  again  smiled  on  them,  and,  though  even  her 


BUFFALO  COW  AND  CALF. 


smiles  were  rather  shrewish,  yet  they  were  joypusly  received.  An 
old  “solitary” — as  the  aged  and  worn-out  buffalo  bulls  are  called — 
was  sighted  and  killed,  and  upon  his  rank  and  tough  carcass  they 
feasted,  as  well  satisfied  as  Sardanapalus  at  one  of  his  Epicurean 
banquets. 

Having  satiated  their  ravenous  hunger,  and  in  some  measure 
regained  their  strength , they  carefully  treasured  up  every  scrap  of 
their  precious  buffalo  meat,  and  resumed  their  onward  march.  At 
last,  just  when  they  had  eaten  every  ounce  of  the  old  bull,  and  were 


DEATH  OF  M’LELLAN. 


403 


again  dreading  a repetition  of  their  horrible  sufferings,  they  came 
upon  a band  of  Snake  Indians.  These  proved  regular  good  Samari- 
tans, took  the  trappers  into  their  lodges,  fed  them,  gave  them  buck- 
skin and  parfleche  for  moccasins,  and  at  their  departure,  “to  speed 
the  parting  guest,”  loaded  them  with  jerked  meat,  and  gave  them 
an  old  horse  to  carry  it. 

They  now  journeyed  joyously  on,  and  with  their  lacerated  feet 
once  more  protected  by  substantial  moccasins,  and  food  enough  to 
give  them  strength,  they  made  fair  speed.  No  complaint  was  made 
of  the  coming  winter,  whose  advanced  battallions  of  skurrying  snow 
and  chilling  winds,  swept  over  the  broad  plateaus,  and  almost  froze 
the  tattered  travelers;  but  all  went  forward  hopefully,  and  as  they 
neared  the  Platte  River,  they  found  an  abundance  of  game.  Their 
phantom  forms  had  filled  out,  their  faces  bore  the  hue  of  health, 
and  their  spirits  and  strength  were  rapidly  regained.  The  old  scout, 
the  man  of  many  vicissitudes,  had  recovered  from  his  exhaustion, 
and  was  once  again  the  leader  of  this  band  of  heroes. 

On  the  2d  of  November  the  party  reached  the  Platte  River,  and 
finding  here  plenty  of  game,  they  determined  to  remain  all  winter. 
To  render  their  camp  more  comfortable,  they  built  a log  cabin, 
which  they  daubed  with  mud,  and  everything  seemed  to  promise  an 
easy  time.  Killing  and  drying  game  for  the  winter,  they  passed 
some  days  very  pleasantly,  but  were  one  morning  rudely  awakened 
from  their  dreams  of  bliss  by  the  hideous  yells  of  a band  of  sav- 
ages, by  whom  their  cabin  was  surrounded.  McLellan  chuckled  at 
the  idea  of  a brush  with  his  old  antagonists,  whom  he  hated,  he  said, 
next  to  Lisa  and  other  greasers,  but  Stewart  thought  it  best  to  get 
out  of  the  trouble  quietly,  and  accordingly  taking  one  companion 
with  him,  he  stepped  out  of  the  door,  rifle  in  one  hand,  the  other 
extended  toward  the  Indians.  Several  of  them  came  forward,  shook 
his  hand  heartily,  and  a friendship  was  soon  established. 

These  Indians,  so  they  told  the  trappers,  were  on  the  war-path, 
against  a neighboring  band  of  Crows,  who  had  raided  one  of  their 
villages,  stealing  large  quantities  of  dried  meat  and  many  ponies. 
This  was  unwelcome  news;  here  they  were,  right  between  two  fires, 
and  subject  to  continual  danger  from  each  of  these  hostile  tribes. 
Even  these  Indians,  now  so  friendly,  would,  on  their  return,  if  they 
suffered  any  loss,  or  met  with  misfortune,  avenge  the  injury  upon 


404 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


the  whites;  and,  if  they  returned  triumphant,  their  war-like  enthu- 
siasm would  be  so  stimulated,  that  they  would  almost  certainly  make 
an  attack.  The  Crows,  too,  as  they  passed  back  and  forth,  would 
visit  them,  and  between  the  two,  they  must  inevitably  be  anni- 
hilated. 


GREASERS. 


Winter,  m all  its  fury,  was  upon  them,  but  they  must  move  their 
quarters,  if  they  would  save  their  lives,  and  accordingly,  they 
loaded  up  their  faithful  old  horse,  and  on  the  13th  day  of  Decem- 
ber, set  out  down  the  Platte.  For  two  weeks  they  marched  through 
snow  and  storm,  suffering  untold  hardships,  but  finally  they  found 
a good  game  country,  and  building  a hut  here,  they  spent  the 


THE  COUNTRY  STORE. 

from  St.  Louis,  in  this  village,  and  from  them  McLellan  first  learned 
of  the  war  then  in  progress  between  the  United  States  and  Great 
Britain.  At  this  village  they  secured  a canoe  large  enough  to  con- 
vey all  of  them  to  St.  Louis,  and  to  that  point  they  rapidly  made 
their  way,  and  greatly  were  the  people  surprised  at  the  sight  of 
“Lisa’s  dead  men.” 

There  is  but  little  more  to  tell  of  the  brave  old  scout,  trader  and 
trapper.  At  St.  Louis  he  purchased  a stock  of  goods  suitable  for  a 


t)EAl'II  OF  M*LELLAK. 


remainder  of  the  winter  in  peace,  and  on  the  8th  of  March,  1813, 
they  started  down  the  river  in  two  canoes,  which  they  had  made 
during  the  winter.  It  did  not  take  them  long  to  find  out  that  the 
swift,  shallow  waters  of  the  Platte  were  unfit  for  even  canoe  naviga- 
tion, and  taking  to  land,  they  loaded  up  their  horse,  and  on  foot 
pushed  on  toward  the  Missouri. 

They  met  with  game  in  abundance;  in  fact,  the  earth  and  heavens 
seemed  alive  with  it,  and  they  traveled  rapidly  until  they  reached 
an  Otoe  village  on  South  Platte.  There  were  some  Indian  traders 


40G 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


trader,  and  opened  a country  store  at  Cape  Girardeau,  but  his  days 
were  numbered.  Hardships  and  exposure  had  done  their  work 
upon  the  iron  frame  of  the  hardy  old  fellow,  and  gradually  suc- 
cumbing to  the  grim  foe,  he  quietly  passed  away  in  the  latter  part 
of  the  year  succeeding  his  return. 

Thus,  quietly  in  his  bed,  died  one  of  the  last  of  the  famous  scouts 
and  pioneers,  who  had  forced  back  the  savages  from  the  Alleghanies 
to  the  Mississippi,  and  who,  in  his  old  age,  had  dared  anew  a 
thousand  toils  and  dangers,  upon  the  plains  and  mountains.  Almost 
miraculously  escaping  death  by  starvation  and  fatigue;  at  the  hands 
of  skulking  savages  and  infuriated  wild  beasts,  this  brave  old  hero 
died  calmly  at  his  home,  like  some  peaceful  burgher  or  steady 
citizen. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THOMAS  EDDIE— THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRAPPERS. 


ASHLEY’S  ROCKY  MOUNTAIN  FUR  COMPANY* CHARACTER  OF  EDDIE STILL 

LIVING A PLEASANT  DRIVE A FUND  OF  INFORMATION FRONTIER 

JUSTICE INDIAN  REVENGE RENEGADE  ROSE HIS  ADVICE ASH- 
LEY’S WANT  OF  CAUTION EDDIE’S  OPINION  OF  ROSE A CROW  CHIEF 

THREE  MEN  MURDERED OPEN  HOSTILITIES THE  AMBUSH  AND 

ATTACK FLIGHT  FOR  THE  BOATS SHOT  AND  DROWNED THE  RETREAT 

SEND  FOR  REINFORCEMENTS SIOUXS  AND  SOLDIERS  TO  THE  RESCUE 

THE  CHARGE  ON  THE  VILLAGE THE  HAND-TO-HAND  COMBAT  OF 

WHITE  BEAR  AND  THE  ARICKARA  CHIEF THE  VILLAGE  BURNED THE 

ARICKARAS  DISPERSED WHITE  BEAR  LIONIZED EDDIE  AND  THIRTEEN 

COMRADES  GO  TO  THE  YELLOWSTONE WINTER  IN  A CROW  VILLAGE 

THE  BLACKFEET SAVAGE  SIGNALS ON  THE  PACIFIC  SLOPE TERRI- 
BLE PRIVATIONS DISCOVER  THE  GREAT  SALT  LAKE ON  THE  COLUMBIA 

AMONGST  THE  UTES A UTE  CUSTOM DEATH  OF  THE  GOOD  CHIEF, 

PIM HIS  BURIAL A STRANGE  REQUEST THE  RETURN  EAST DAILY 

SKIRMISHES. 


Amongst  the  heroes,  whom  Ashley  recruited  in  St.  Louis,  in  1823, 
for  his  Pocky  Mountain  Fur  Company,  was  the  atheletic  young 
Scotchman,  whose  name  appears  at  the  head  of  this  sketch.  Born  on 
the  29th  of  August,  1799,  he  early  developed  a love  for  adventure, 
and  at  the  age  of  twenty-four  years,  we  find  him  enlisting  in  an 
expedition,  in  whose  ranks  were  such  men  as  William  Sublette,  Bill 
Gordon,  Fitzpatrick,  “Old  Bill”  Williams,  and  others,  whose 
prowess  stood  high  throughout  the  western  borders.  Eddie  was  a 
man  of  iron  will,  and  the  older  members  of  the  expedition  soon 
found,  that  the  canny  young  Scot  would  do  and  dare  as  far  as  any 
of  them.  His  aim  with  the  rifle  was  as  quick  and  sure,  and  his 
skill  with  the  trap  as  certain,  as  even  those  of  “Old  Bill”  Williams, 
the  “old  solitary,”  as  they  called  him,  from  his  long  and  lonely 
excursions.  As  ready  as  William  Sublette  to  go  to  the  relief  of  a 
comrade,  as  quick  to  volunteer  on  a dangerous  mission  as  Bill  Gor- 
don, Eddie  had  not  an  enemy  in  all  the  West,  except  amongst  the 
murderous  savages,  whose  hands  were  against  every  white  man. 

In  my  search  after  information  in  regard  to  these  old  moun- 
taineers, Mr.  Pi  chard  Dowling — from  whom  I had  obtained  valuable 

407 


408 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


information — informed  me,  that  one  of  them  still  lived,  and  was  R 
resident  of  St.  Louis  County.  Delighted  at  the  chance  of  obtain- 
ing authentic  information  from  a man,  who  could  truly  exclaim  with 
the  poet:  “All  of  which  I saw,  and  part  of  which  I was,”  and  also 
desirous  of  seeing  the  “Last  of  The  Trappers,”  I lost  no  time  in 
setting  out  for  the  home  of  the  old  mountaineer.  Driving  over  the 
gently  sloping  hills,  and  through  the  fertile  valleys  of  the  county; 
along  roads  shaded  by  glorious  trees,  and  bordered  with  rich  fields  of 
waving  grain  and  flowering  orchards,  I came  at  last  to  the  beautiful 
home,  where,  surrounded  by  his  offspring,  the  brave  old  hero  is 


THE  HOME  OF  THOMAS  EDDIE. 


spending,  in  peaceful  rest,  the  evening  of  a life,  whose  youth  was 
passed  in  the  midst  of  continual  danger  and  excitement. 

Finding  Mr.  Eddie  in  the  full  possession  of  mental  and  bodily 
vigor,  and,  at  the  age  of  eighty-four,  with  his  memory  unimpaired, 
I was  enabled  to  gain  much  and  valuable  information.  This,  united 
to  the  facts  obtained  from  Raymond,  old  Joe  Jewett — who  had  lived 
amongst  the  Sioux  for  fifty  years — Bisonette,  Monteau  and  others, 
with  whom  I came  in  contact  during  my  life  on  the  plains  and 
in  the  mountains,  has  enabled  me  to  nresent  an  account,  which  lacks 


'THOMAS  EDDIE — THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRAPPERS. 


409 


but  little,  if  anything,  of  being  complete,  and  which  may  be  relied 
upon  as  thoroughly  accurate. 

Eddie’s  induction  into  the  mysteries  of  the  craft,  along  the  upper 
waters  of  the  Missouri,  was  destined  to  be  full  of  dangers.  Making 
their  way  in  keel-boats,  with  the  aid  of  oars,  sails  and  cord,  against 
the  heavy  current  of  the  muddy  river,  and  threading  their  way 
amongst  its  numerous  snags  and  sand-bars,  Ashley’s  party  at  last 
reached  the  vicinity  of  the  Arickara  village,  where  they  intended 
to  commence  their  trade,  before  passing  on  up  to  the  Yellowstone, 
where  their  trapping  would  begin.  Shortly  before  their  arrival, 
some  member  of  the  Missouri  Fur  Company  had  caught  the  son  of 
the  head  chief  of  this  nation  stealing  his  horse,  and  had  shot  him 
down.  Unknown  to  Ashley’s  men,  the  Indians  had  determined  to 
avenge  this  act  of  justice. 

Amongst  Ashley’s  guides  and  interpreters  was  a Kentuckian, 
named  Rose,  who,  for  some  crime,  had  been  outlawed  in  his  native 
State,  and  was  now  a chief  amongst  the  Crow  Indians.  This  man 
has  been  represented  by  Ashley  and  others  as  a villain  of  the  deepest 
dye,  full  of  malice,  treachery  and  cunning,  but  in  Eddie’s  opinion 
their  misfortunes,  at  this  point,  occurred  from  Ashley’s  disregard  of 
Hose’s  advice.  Unable  to  reach  the  bar  on  which  he  desired  to  land, 
owing  to  the  shallow  water,  Ashley  anchored  his  boat  close  in  shore, 
near  a long  strip  of  small  cottonwoods,  which  formed  a dense 
thicket.  Kose  wished  to  land  against  a sand-bar  further  out,  and  spoke 
of  the  dangers  of  an  ambush.  To  this  Ashley  stated,  that  the  Aricka- 
ras  were  friendly,  and  he  was  certain  there  would  be  no  treachery, 
as  it  had  been  years  since  they  had  been  on  the  war-path  against 
the  whites. 

Rose’s  knowledge  of  Indians  had  been  gained  by  a long  residence 
amongst  them,  and  he  told  Ashley  that  he  was  certain,  from  all  the 
signs  upon  which  a man  could  rely,  that  the  Indians  meant  mischief, 
and  that  he  had  better  guard  against  any  surprise.  This  warning 
was  treated  with  contempt,  and  the  trade  began,  the  Indians  show- 
ing a feverish  anxiety  to  obtain  guns  and  ammunition — ostensibly 
for  war  parties  against  their  old  enemies,  the  Sioux.  Having  confi- 
dence in  their  friendship,  the  trade  went  on,  until  three  of  the  trap- 
pers were  missed.  As  it  was  afterwards  discovered,  these  men  had 
been  secretly  murdered  by  the  savages.  Alarmed  at  their  disappear- 
ance, Ashley,  when  it  was  too  late,  began  preparations  for  defense,  but 


410 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


with  his  men  divided — some  on  the  boats  and  some  on  shore — the 
Indians  had  him  at  a terrible  disadvantage,  and  finding  that  they 
could  no  longer  disguise  their  enmity,  they  began  a fierce  attack 
upon  the  whites.  The  cottonwood  thickets  swarmed  with  the  sav- 
ages, and  from  this  ambush,  and  from  every  vantage  point,  they 
poured  a perfect  storm  of  bullets  upon  the  trappers,  in  the  open 
plain  and  in  the  boat. 

The  whites  fought  desperately — though  the  Indians  outnumbered 
them  seven  to  one,  and  had  every  advantage  in  position — and  at  last 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRAPPERS. 


succeeded  in  cutting  their  way  through  to  the  river,  into  which  they 
leaped  and  swam  to  the  boats;  many  being  drowned,  and  others 
killed  by  bullets,  in  endeavoring  to  reach  them.  The  order  was 
given  to  cut  the  cables,  and  still  under  a terrific  fire,  the  boats  began 
to  slowly  drift  down  the  river.  The  oars  were  then  manned,  and  the 
retreat  began,  and  continued  for  fifteen  miles,  when  the  savages 
ceased  their  pursuit,  and  the  trappers  had  time  to  sum  up  their  losses. 
They  found  that,  out  of  one  hundred  and  forty-nine  men,  they  had 
lost  sixty  in  killed  and  drowned,  and  scarcely  a man  of  them,  who 


THOMAS  EDDIE THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRAPPERS. 


411 


escaped  alive,  but  bore  upon  his  person  one  or  more  bullet  or  arrow 
wounds.  This  fight  occurred  on  the  9th  of  March,  1823. 

Eddie  luckily  escaped  with  one  or  two  slight  flesh  wounds,  and 
was  ready  to  go  back  to  the  village  again,  upon  the  arrival  of  rein- 
forcements. Col.  Leavenworth — after  whom  the  city  and  fort  were 
named — was  then  at  Council  Bluffs,  and  to  him  Ashley  sent  for 
troops  to  aid  him  against  the  savages.  Leavenworth  promptly 
responded;  and  a band  of  Sioux,  under  their  noted  chief.  White 
Bear,  also  volunteered  to  accompany  them.  Marching  hastily  upon 
the  village,  they  found  the  Arickaras  abandoning  it,  but  the  Sioux, 
soldiers  and  trappers,  fell  upon  their  rear  guard,  routing  it  speedily, 
and  setting  fire  to  the  village,  it  was  entirely  consumed. 

White  Bear  was  here  the  hero  of  an  exploit,  that  made  him  a great 
fpvorite  amongst  the  whites.  Singling  out  a gigantic  Arickara,  he 
rushed  upon  him,  tomahawk  in  hand,  having  just  discharged  his 
rifle,  and  dared  him  to  turn  like  a man  and  fight.  The  Arickara, 
bow  in  hand,  turned  upon  the  Bear,  and  sent  a shower  of  arrows 
whistling  around  him,  one  of  them  piercing  his  thigh.  Stopping  for 
a second  to  pull  the  arrow  through  the  wound,  White  Bear  then 
charged  upon  his  enemy,  tomahawk  in  hand. 

The  Arickara  had  discharged  his  last  arrow,  and  seeing  that  it  was 
too  late  to  fly,  he  determined  to  meet  his  fate  like  a man,  and  with 
a terrific  whoop,  the  two  warriors  came  together,  and  a duel  to  the 
death  began.  The  Arickara  was  the  larger  and  more  powerful  man, 
but  the  Sioux  made  up  in  agility  and  address  what  he  lacked  in 
physique,  and  for  some  time  the  combat  was  doubtful.  As  specta- 
tators  in  some  vast  amphitheatre,  the  other  combatants  looked  on  at 
the  gallant  struggle. 

The  sweeping  and  circling  tomahawks  flashed  in  the  sun,  but  so 
far  each  had  evaded  any  disabling  stroke,  when,  making  a feint  at 
the  head  of  his  foe,  the  Sioux  suddenly  bent  down,  and  struck  the 
Arickara  a fierce  blow  on  the  knee,  almost  severing  the  leg,  and 
then,  with  the  agility  of  the  sleek  panther,  sprang  rapidly  beyond 
the  reach  of  the  descending  weapon  of  his  foe. 

The  latter  tottered  for  a second  or  two,  and  then  fell,  still  retain- 
ing his  tomahawk,  but  before  he  could  recover  himself,  the  Sioux 
had  poised  his  weapon,  and  sent  it  hissing  through  the  air,  striking 
the  skull  of  the  Arickara,  crashing  into  his  brain,  and  killing  him 
instantly.  Amidst  the  thundering  plaudits  of  his  spectators,  the 


413  CO^QEERiNG  THE  WILDERNESS. 

brave  Bear  dexterously  scalped  his  enemy,  and  then  gave  attention 
to  his  own  wounds. 

White  Bear,  and  another  young  Sioux,  who  had  fought  heroically, 
were  afterward  taken  to  St.  Louis,  where  for  some  time  they 
remained  at  the  Jefferson  Barracks,  greatly  admired  and  lionized. 
It  is  said  that  White  Bear  cut  out  the  heart  of  his  foe,  and  eat  it. 
This  is  given  on  the  authority  of  spectators  of  the  duel.  The 


WHITE  BEAR’S  COMBAT  WITH  THE  ARICKARA  CHIEF. 


Arickaras  having  been  dispersed,  Ashley  sent  fourteen  men,  one  of 
whom  was  Thomas  Eddie,  to  go  up  the  river  to  the  Yellowstone,  and 
to  cross  the  mountains,  intending  to  follow  after  awhile  with  the 
others.  On  the  way  up,  these  fourteen  men  met  one  hundred  of  the 
trappers,  who  were  then  on  the  Yellowstone,  and  who,  hearing  in 
some  manner  of  the  peril  of  the  whites,  were  on  their  way  to  their 
assistance. 


THOMAS  EDDIE— THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRAPPERS. 


413 


The  fourteen  men  went  on  to  the  Yellowstone,  and  hunted  and 
trapped  on  that  stream  until  winter,  when  they  made  their  way, 
after  two  or  three  skirmishes  with  the  Blackfeet,  to  a Crow  village, 
where  they  wintered.  Here,  says  Eddie,  they  were  treated  with 
kindness  and  hospitality,  and  by  spring  they  had  taken  a great  many 
furs.  With  the  opening  of  the  next  season,  the  trappers  bade  adieu 
to  their  Crow  friends,  with  appropriate  gifts,  speeches  and  ceremo- 
nies, and  turned  their  faces  toward  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

Here  they  again  encountered  their  old  enemies,  the  Blackfeet, 
and  there  was  scarcely  a day  without  its  skirmish,  or  a night  without 
its  alarm  of  “Indians,  Indians — look  to  your  horses!”  In  these 
skirmishes,  slight  wounds  amounted  to  nothing,  being  bound  up  and 
wet  occasionally  with  cold  water,  their  victims  marching  on,  as  if 
nothing  had  occurred.  Upon  every  mountain  peak  they  could  see 
the  savage  sentinels,  and  note  their  signals  to  their  friends  in  the 
plains  and  valleys  below. 

Every  ravine  was  sure  to  have  its  ambush,  every  ford  its  defen- 
ders, still  they  marched  on,  and  at  last,  leaving  behind  them  rugged 
mountains  and  murderous  Blackfeet,  they  encamped  on  the  plains 
of  the  Pacific  Slope.  Here  they  encountered  the  same  privations 
and  hardships,  that  had  proved  so  terrible  to  Crooks  and  McLellan, 
but  at  last,  when  out  of  ammunition,  and  almost  perishing  with 
hunger,  they  met  a party  of  trappers,  belonging  to  the  Hudson  Bay 
Company,  and  were  by  them  taken  to  their  post,  on  the  Columbia 
River. 

At  this  post  they  wintered,  (1824),  and  in  the  spring  returned  to 
the  basin  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake,  which  they  were  the  first  of  all 
white  men  to  see  j having  visited  it  on  their  way  to  the  Columbia 
River.  Here  they  were  unmolested,  and  had  a prosperous  season. 
The  following  season,  (1825),  they  also  spent  here,  making  excur- 
sions down  into  the  country  of  the  Mountain  Utes,  along  the  Uintah, 
the  Grand,  and  the  other  tributary  waters  of  the  Colorado.  These 
Indians  they  found  to  be  friendly,  but  treacherous,  and  disposed  to 
steal  their  horses. 

The  Utes,  at  that  time,  observed  the  same  precautions,  to  keep 
their  race  of  pure  blood,  that  they  use  to-day.  Any  of  their  squaws, 
who  disobeyed  this  rule  of  the  tribe,  were,  with  their  offspring, 
straightway  put  to  death,  so  that  in  all  their  tribes,  I have  never 
seen  a single  half-breed.  The  only  exception  they  make,  is  in  favor 


414 


CONQUERING  TIIE  WILDERNESS, 


of  children  taken  young  and  adopted  into  the  tribe,  in  which  case, 
they  are  regarded  as  true  Utes,  and  not  as  aliens.  Ouray,  their  Iasi, 
grand  chief,  was  an  Arrapaho,  taken  when  a child,  in  a foray  of  these 
mountain  Indians  into  the  plains  of  the  Arkansas.  By  shrewdness. 


bravery,  and  a cunning  truckling  to  the  whites,  Ouray  gained  an 
absolute  sway  amongst  his  people,  and  his  death  was  a great  loss  to 
the  whites,  as  his  voice  was  always  raised  for  peace  between  his 
nation  and  the  people  pf  Colorado. 


THE  SNAKE  CHIEF,  PIM— THE  FRIEND  OF  THE  TRAPPERS. 


THOMAS  EDDIE THE  LAST  OF  THE  TRAPPERS. 


415 


In  the  spring  of  1826  the  trappers  set  out  for  the  Yellowstone, 
but,  when  nearing  Bear  River,  an  Indian  runner  came  to  them  from 
his  dead  chief,  Pirn.  Pirn  was  at  the  head  of  a band  of  Snake 
Indians,  who  had  shown  a thousand  kindnesses  to  the  trappers. 
His  village  had  ever  welcomed  them  as  visitors,  and  the  lodge  of  the 
chief  was  their  refuge  when  suffering  from  wounds.  The  runner 
had  come  upon  sad  business,  and  throughout  the  long  night  they 
could  hear  his  crying  song,  as  he  marched  around  a tall  tree  near  the 
camp. 

In  the  morning  he  made  known  his  message.  Pirn,  their  kindly 
host  on  so  many  occasions,  lay  dead  in  his  lodge,  and  had  requested 
burial  at  the  hands  of  his  white  friends,  who  had  honored  and  been 
honored  by  his  undying  friendship.  Would  they  read  over  him  out 
of  their  medicine  book,  (the  Bible),  as  he  had  once  seen  done  over 
a dead  trapper,  and  sing  one  of  their  dirges,  and  then  lay  him  to  rest 
on  the  banks  of  Bear  River,  where  he  could  hear  its  unceasing  song, 
and  where  he  would  make  the  beavers  plenty  for  his  white 
brothers  ? 

It  was  a strange  request,  but  to  their  honor  be  it  said,  they  turned 
back  upon  their  trail  for  forty  miles,  and  then,  in  relays  of  four, 
bore  their  solemn  burden  slowly  and  tenderly  to  the  banks  of  the 
river,  and  there,  in  a hole  in  the  rocks — which  had  long  before  bee]] 
selected  and  hollowed  out  by  the  chief — they  laid  him  to  rest,  read 
ing  over  him  the  burial  service,  and  singing  a hymn.  A volley  waj 
then  fired  over  the  open  grave,  and  the  trappers  turned  sadly  towards 
the  mountains,  leaving  the  Indians  to  perform  their  last  rites  over 
the  dead  chief.  As  they  neared  the  mountains,  they  again  encoun- 
tered the  pugnacious  Blackfeet,  and  every  day  there  was  an  attack 
by  these  savages. 

Fortunately  for  the  trappers,  these  Indians  were  armc  1 prin- 
cipally with  bows  and  arrows,  and  those  who  possessed  rifLs,  were 
so  sparingly  provided  with  ammunition,  that  they  only  u^ed  them 
when  they  felt  certain  that  they  could  inflict  serious  injury.  On 
their  trip  across  the  mountains,  two  years  before,  numbers  of  these 
Indians  had  fallen  beneath  the  sure  aim  of  the  whites,  but  not  a 
trapper  had  been  killed,  or  even  dangerously  wounded. 


CHAPTER  iX. 


BATTLES  AND  DISASTERS. 


AMBUSHED  BY  BLACKFEET EDDIE  SEVERELY  WOUNDED OTHERS  INJURED 

BESIEGED  ON  A CRAG BLACKFEET  BEATEN A SUCCESSFUL  STRATA- 
GEM  BAFFLED  SAVAGES HORSE  THIEVES THE  RACE  FOR  THE  PASS 

THE  TRAPPERS  WIN THIEVES  SLAIN STOCK  RECOVERED INDIANS 

DISAPPEAR “OLD  BILL”  WILLIAMS’  IDEA ADVENTURE  OF  GORDON  AND 

EDDIE INDIANS  OUTWITTED EDDIE’S  SINGLE-HANDED  FIGHT  WITH  A 

GIGANTIC  INDIAN COMPLICATIONS A TERRIBLE  WOUND EDDIE  TRI- 
UMPHANT  FIVE  INDIANS  KILLED SEVEN  MEN  SENT  TO  SANTE  FE 

NEVER  RETURN OTHERS  MAKE  THEIR  WAY  BACK  TO  THE  YELLOWSTONE 

IN  CAMP AMUSEMENTS EDDIE  RETURNS  TO  ST.  LOUIS PURCHASES 

THE  OLD  GREEN  TREE  TAVERN MARRIES  MISS  CLARK A ST.  LOUIS 

BELLE REMOVES  TO  HIS  FARM— — A LARGE  FAMILY A BEAUTIFUL 

HOME HIS  CHILDREN A WONDERFUL  MAN. 

Upon  their  way  East,  as  the  trappers  were  passing  through  a nar- 
row, but  lovely  valley,  they  were  ambushed,  and  amongst  others, 
Thomas  Eddie  was  wounded,  and  more  severely  than  any  of  his 
comrades,  receiving  a rifle  ball  in  his  thigh.  The  bullet  lodged 
against  the  skin  on  the  other  side  of  the  leg,  and  was  cut  out  with  a 
beaver  knife,  by  Will  Sublette.  The  party  were  surrounded  on  all 
sides,  but  obtained  possession  of  a craggy  knoll,  down  whose  sides 
trickled  a small  stream  of  ice  cold  water. 

As  some  of  the  men  were  unable  to  proceed, -on  account  of 
wounds  received  in  the  attack,  it  was  determined — after  beating  oft 
the  Blackfeet,  with  a loss  of  five  killed  and  fifteen  or  twenty 
wounded — to  remain  here  until  all  could  go  on  together.  The 
wounds  of  their  comrades  were  dressed,  and  they  soon  began  to 
improve. 

In  the  meantime,  the  Blackfeet  kept  guard  in  large  numbers,  and 
had  it  not  been  for  the  abundance  of  beavers  in  the  stream,  that  ran 
through  the  valley,  the  trappers  must  have  suffered  greatly  from 
hunger.  As  it  was,  they  were  enabled  to  subsist  on  these  animals, 
and  the  mountain  trout,  which  they  found  no  difficulty  in  taking  in 
large  numbers. 

In  ten  days  all  were  once  more  able  to  travel,  and  placing  dum- 
mies to  deceive  the  savages,  they  lighted  up  their  camp  fires  as 

416 


BATTLES  AND  DISASTERS. 


417 


usual  at  night,  and  bearing  off  toward  the  North,  they  made 
a tedious  and  hazardous  march  over  a rough  trail,  and  then 
turning  East,  completely  baffled  the  waiting  Blackfeet.  Making 
forced  marches,  they  encountered  no  other  dangers,  until  within  a 
day’s  reach  of  their  rendezvous  on  the  Yellowstone,  when  a small 
band  of  Crows  endeavored  to  steal  their  horses. 

Eddie,  who  was  just  returning  from  a short  hunt,  saw  the  thieves 
as  they  were  driving  off  the  stock,  and  firing  upon  them,  he  killed 
their  leader.  The  others  had  swiftly  mounted,  and  by  the  time 
Eddie’s  comrades  came  up,  they  were  in  rapid  flight.  Eddie  remem- 
bered that  the  valley,  down  which  the  thieves  were  riding,  doubled 
almost  upon  itself,  making  a very  sharp  horse-shoe  curve,  and  he 
knew,  that  if  they  could  ascend  the  mountain  on  their  right,  they 
might  head  off  the  Indians.  Telling  his  comrades  of  this  fact,  a 
part  of  them  returned  to  camp,  while  a part,  under  command  of 
Eddie,  made  the  best  of  their  way  to  the  point  which  the  savages 
must  pass. 

When  they  had  reached  the  mountain  top,  each  party  came  in 
sight  of  the  other,  and  both  gave  a fierce  yell.  The  Indians  were 
carrying  the  body  of  their  dead  leader,  and  had  they  not  been  thus 
encumbered,  they  might  have  made  good  their  escape  with  the  stolen 
animals.  As  it  was,  Eddie  cheered  on  his  men,  and  both  sides  made 
all  possible  haste  toward  the  fatal  pass. 

The  endurance  of  the  white  men  had  been  underestimated  by  the 
Indians,  for  they  were  first  at  the  narrow  opening  between  the  two 
mountains,  and  as  the  Crows  rode  up,  all  but  the  one  who  was  carry- 
ing the  body  of  his  leader,  were  picked  off  at  the  first  fire,  and  this 
one  was  badly  wounded.  Endeavoring  to  ride  his  heavily  burdened 
horse  across  the  stream,  that  flowed  through  the  valley,  the  animal 
stumbled  and  fell,  throwing  both  the  live  and  the  dead  man  into  the 
water. 

Whatever  became  of  the  corpse  and  its  attendant  was  never 
known.  Whether  the  live  man  was  killed  by  the  fall,  or  stunned 
and  perished  in  the  swift  current,  or  whether  he  made  his  way  back 
to  his  tribe,  the  trappers  never  ascertained.  A careful  search  failed 
to  discover  the  whereabouts  of  either  of  them,  and  “Old  Bill” 
Williams  said:  “He  had  no  doubt  but  that  the  dead  one  had  carried 
the  live  one  to  h with  him.” 


418 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


The  next  day  they  reached  the  camp  on  the  Yellowstone,  and 
stayed  for  some  time  at  this  rendezvous,  waiting  for  other  comrades 
to  come  in.  Around  their  camp-fires  they  fought  over  their  battles, 
compared  notes  of  the  country,  made  rude  tracings  of  their  routes, 
with  their  various  rivers,  mountains  and  plains;  and  those  who  had 
visited  the  Great  Salt  Lake,  told  their  comrades  of  the  vast  inland 
sea,  whose  waters  were  bitter  with  salt,  and  into  whose  depths  no 
living  thing  could  sink,  so  buoyant  were  its  waves. 

The  fourteen  spent  this  season,  and  part  of  the  next,  trapping 
along  the  Yellowstone,  and  then  followed  the  mountains  toward  the 
South,  setting  their  traps  in  all  of  the  suitable  streams  between  the 
head  of  the  Missouri  and  the  upper  waters  of  the  Platte.  On 
the  latter  stream  they  detached  seven  of  their  number  to  go  to  Santa 
Fe,  in  New  Mexico,  for  a supply  of  ammunition,  of  which  they 
were  almost  destitute.  These  men  set  out  cheerfully  across  the 
sandy  plains  of  Colorado,  and  when  they  were  just  about  to  disap- 
pear from  view,  each  party  waved  to  the  other  a last  adieu.  They 
were  destined  never  to  meet  again.  From  the  time  they  disappeared 
beyond  the  eastern  horizon,  all  trace  of  them  is  lost.  Whether  they 
fell  a prey  to  Sioux,  or  Kiowa,  Apache  or  Comanche,  Navajo,  or  to 
the  listless,  lounging  greasers,  active  only  in  murder,  was  never 
known,  and  their  fate  is  enveloped  in  impenetrable  mystery. 

After  waiting  for  months  for  their  comrades,  all  hope  of  their 
return  was  abandoned,  and  the  seven  still  left,  made  their  way  back 
to  the  Yellowstone.  On  this  trip  they  had  several  skirmishes,  but 
nothing  serious  occurred,  until  they  had  reached  a camp  some  forty- 
five  miles  above  the  present  town  of  Boulder,  in  Colorado.  Here 
Eddie  and  Bill  Gordon  had  gone  out  on  a hunt,  and  returning,  were 
fired  on  by  a small  war  party  of  Arapahos. 

Both  of  them  were  slightly  wounded,  and  returning  the  fire,  two 
of  the  savages  fell  from  their  horses.  Luckily  for  the  white  men, 
they  were  close  to  a small  canon,  in  which  they  took  refuge,  and 
hastily  reloaded  their  rifles.  Having  strapped  their  dead  on  their 
horses,  the  Indians  detached  five  men  to  follow  Eddie  and  Gordon, 
and  the  rest  rode  off  toward  the  camp  of  their  comrades.  Fearing 
that  the  latter  might  be  surprised,  Eddie  told  Gordon  to  hasten  to 
the  camp,  while  he  held  in  check  the  five  savages  who  had  now  dis- 
mounted, and  four  of  whom  had  started  up  into  the  canon  after  the 
trappers,  leaving  one  to  hold  the  horses. 


BATTLES  AND  DISASTERS. 


419 


Thinking  to  outwit  the  Indians,  Eddie  now  ran  swiftly  up  the 
canon,  and  then,  back-tracking,  he  secreted  himself,  and  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  the  savages  slowly  pass  his  hiding  place,  looking 
cautiously  ahead,  to  prevent  an  ambush.  As  soon  as  they  were  out 
of  sight,  Eddie  darted  down  the  canon  as  rapidly  as  possible,  and 
dashed  out  on  to  the  plain  at  his  highest  speed.  What  he  had  hoped 
for,  now  came  to  pass : the  horse-guard  was  so  completely  taken  by 
surprise,  that  he  did  not  mount  and  keep  out  of  Eddie’s  way,  but 
raised  his  rifle,  and  both  fired  at  the  same  moment. 


MURDEROUS  MEXICANS. 


Eddie  was  struck  in  the  shoulder,  the  bullet  inflicting  a painful, 
but  not  at  all  dangerous  wound,  while  his  ball  passed  through  the 
Indian’s  thigh,  and  broke  the  leg  of  the  horse  by  which  he  was  stand- 
ing. In  falling,  the  horse  had  knocked  the  Indian  down,  and  now 
lay  partly  upon  his  leg,  holding  him  to  the  ground.  His  frantic 
struggles,  as  he  beheld  the  white  man  rapidly  approaching,  enabled 
him  to  release  himself,  and  rising,  he  drew  his  knife;  his  tomahawk 
having  fallen  during  his  struggles. 


420 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Hoping  that  their  shots  would  bring  his  comrades  to  the  scene,  the 
Indian  made  a desperate  fight,  notwithstanding  the  pain  of  his 
wound,  and  his  weakness  from  loss  of  blood.  He  was  a giant  in 
size,  while  Eddie  was  rather  a small  man,  and  for  a long  time  all 
the  efforts  of  the  latter,  to  get  in  a blow  with  his  tomahawk,  were 
in  vain.  The  Indian  had  changed  his  knife  to  his  left  hand,  and 
just  as  Eddie  had  succeeded  in  making  a sweeping  blow,  which,  had 
it  reached  him,  would  have  cut  him  down,  the  Indian  caught  Eddie’s 
arm,  and  the  tomahawk  flew  from  his  grasp. 

With  the  quickness  of  thought,  the  white  man  now  made  an  effort 
to  seize  the  Indian’s  knife,  and  at  this  moment,  the  four  savages 
emerged  fromlhe  mouth  of  the  canon  on  a dead  run,  in  order  to 
relieve  their  comrade.  At  the  same  moment  the  latter  had  made  a 
stroke,  which  Eddie  caught  full  in  the  palm  of  his  right  hand,  the 
knife  cutting  through  and  through,  and  making  a fearful  wound. 

Notwithstanding  his  intense  suffering,  the  trapper  held  on  to  the 
weapon,  and  now  a new  complication  arose,  with  the  rapidity  of  a 
summer  storm.  A shot  rang  out  from  the  mouth  of  the  canon,  and 
the  foremost  Indian  fell  to  the  ground.  The  other  three  halted  and 
faced  the  new  enemy,  and  the  one  with  whom  Eddie  was  engaged, 
had  his  attention  distracted  for  a single  second.  On  that  short 
space  hung  his  life,  for  Eddie,  whose  only  hope  had  been  to  sell  his 
life  as  dearly  as  possible,  now  wrested  the  knife  from  him,  and 
buried  it  to  the  hilt  in  his  abdomen,  the  Arapaho  falling  to  the 
ground.  The  other  three,  who  were  again  coming  on,  were  distant 
some  fifty  yards,  and  fired  upon  the  triumphant  Eddie,  doing  no 
greater  damage  than  to  disable  another  of  their  horses. 

Mounting  the  nearest  steed,  Eddie,  leading  the  other  two,  set  off 
at  full  speed  for  the  mouth  of  the  canon,  circling  to  avoid  the  three 
savages.  At  this  point,  to  his  surprise,  he  met  Gordon,  who  told 
him  that  from  the  top  of  the  low  mountain,  he  had  seen  the  Arapa- 
hoes  engaged  in  battle  with  a band  of  Indians  down  in  the  plain, 
and  had  returned  to  his  assistance,  as  he  knew  the  camp  was  safe. 

They  could  now  hear  an  occasional  shot,  but  determined  to  finish 
their  work  on  the  Arapahos,  they  pursued  them,  and  succeeded  in 
killing  all  of  them.  They  at  once  returned  to  camp  with  the  arms 
and  horses  of  the  Indians,  and  it  was  decided  to  move  as  rapidly  as 
possible  from  so  dangerous  a locality.  They  encountered  no  other 
difficulties,  and  got  safely  back  to  the  Yellowstone. 


BATTLES  AND  DISASTERS. 


421 


In  1829,  Eddie,  who  had  been  out  six  years,  returned  to  St. 
Louis,  and  here  he  purchased  the  Green  Tree  tavern,  having  a 
very  considerable  sum  of  money  coming  to  him,  as  his  share  of  the 
profits  of  the  expedition.  In  1833  he  married  a Miss  Clarke,  then 
a reigning  belle  in  St.  Louis,  and  who,  in  spite  of  the  flight  of  time, 
and  the  cares  of  a large  family,  still  retains  the  traces  of  her  former 
beauty.  They  have  had  eleven  children;  five  boys  and  six  girls. 
Of  these,  six  still  live;  five  boys  and  one  girl. 

The  names  of  the  surviving  children  are:  James,  who  has  also 
had  considerable  mountain  experience;  John,  Henry,  Thomas, 
Edward  and  Ella.  It  was  in  this  same  year  (1833),  that  Mr.  Eddie 
purchased  and  removed  to  his  present  home — one  of  the  finest  in  the 
county — and  here,  at  the  age  of  eighty-four  years,  he  still  resides 
hale  and  hearty;  his  hair  tinged  by  the  frosts  of  his  many  winters, 
but  his  heart  as  brave,  his  mind  as  clear,  and  his  form  as  active  as 
those  of  most  men,  who  have  not  measured  more  than  half  his  span 
of  years.  A well  deserved  prosperity  is  his,  and  may  he  live  many 
years  to  enjoy  the  comforts  of  “his  own  vine  and  fig-tree,”  and  to 
live  over,  in  cheerful  gossip  with  his  neighbors — for,  to  his 
unbounded  hospitality,  no  man  is  a stranger — his  “many  ’scapes 
upon  the  tented  field,  and  imminent  perils  in  the  deadly  breach.” 


CHAPTER  X. 


COLTER’S  RACE  FOR  LIFE. 


WITH  LEWIS  AND  CLARK HIS  PARTNER,  POTTS THEY  STOP  ON  THE 

UPPER  MISSOURI LEWIS  KILLS  A BLACKFOOT VENGEFUL  SAVAGES 

COLTER’S  PLAN THE  ALARM POTT’S  RIDICULE SURROUNDED 

CAPTURED COLTER’S  STRUGGLE  WITH  THE  INDIAN POTT’S  FOLLY 

KILLED HIS  REVENGE COLTER  STRIPPED  NAKED INDIANS 

. DELIBERATE  AS  TO  HIS  FATE VARIOUS  PLANS THE  DECISION THE 

QUESTION COLTER’S  REPLY A POOR  RUNNER THE  START SUR- 
PRISED SAVAGES COLTER’S  DISADVANTAGE A FLEET  BLACKFOOT 

AN  UNEXPECTED  ACTION THE  BROKEN  SPEAR PINNED  TO  THE  EARTH 

FLIGHT  RENEWED HALT  OF  THE  BLACKFEET PURSUIT  RENEWED 

COLTER  REACHES  JEFFERSON  FORK HIDES  IN  THE  DRIFT  PILE 

SEARCHING  SAVAGES DISAPPOINTED THE  DRIFT  DESERTED COL- 
TER’S PITIABLE  PLIGHT REACHES  LISA’S  FORT TERRIBLE  SUFFERINGS 

REGAINS  HIS  STRENGTH. 


One  of  the  most  intrepid  of  the  early  Rocky  Mountain  trappers 
was  the  celebrated  hunter,  Colter,  who  accompanied  Lewis  and 
Clark’s  expedition  to  the  upper  waters  of  the  Missouri,  and  there 
obtained  permission  for  himself  and  his  comrade,  Potts,  to  stop  for 
the  purpose  of  trapping  and  hunting.  It  was  their  intention  to 
remain  but  a short  time,  and  then  overtake  the  main  body.  This 
was  after  Lewis’  affray  with  one  of  the  insolent  Blackfeet — whom 
he  was  obliged  to  kill — and  the  trappers  were  well  aware,  that  they 
would  have  to  use  extreme  caution,  in  order  to  escape  the  vengence 
of  these  savages. 

Their  plan  of  operations,  was  to  set  their  traps  late  in  the  evening, 
visit  them  early  each  morning,  remove  them  and  their  game,  and 
lie  hid  all  day.  This  course  they  continued  for  some  time,  but  one 
morning,  while  rowing  up  the  stream  to  their  traps,  a heavy  tramp- 
ling was  heard.  Colter  declared  it  to  be  Indians,  and  was  for  taking 
to  flight  at  once  ; but  Potts  laughed  at  him,  pronounced  the  tramp- 
ling that  of  buffaloes,  and  kept  ahead.  It  did  not  take  a great 
while  to  decide  which  was  right,  for,  rowing  on  up  the  stream,  they 
were  hemmed  in  by  a multitude  of  Indians  ; both  banks  being  filled 
with  them. 

Colter  saw  that  escape  was  impossible,  and  when  they  called  to 
him  to  come  ashore,  he  turned  in  to  the  bank,  and  they  were  soon 

422 


colter’s  race  for  ltfe. 


423 


surrounded  by  the  savage  Blackfeet.  Just  as  they  stepped  on  shore, 
a burly  Indian  snatched  Potts’  rifle,  but  Colter,  a man  of  great 
strength  and  courage,  wrested  it  away  and  returned  it  to  Potts,  who 
now  jumped  into  the  canoe  and  pushed  out  into  the  creek. 

Colter  called  to  him  to  come  ashore,  as  there  was  no  chance  to 
escape  ; but  Potts  kept  out  in  the  current,  and  soon  cried  out  to  his 
comrade:  “Colter,  I’m  wounded.”  Colter  turned  and  saw  the 
Indian  who  had  shot  Potts,  just  taking  down  his  bow,  and,  while  he 
was  looking  at  him,  he  heard  Potts’  rifle,  and  saw  the  Indian  drop 
dead — a second  after,  Potts’  lifeless  body  fell  into  the  canoe,  filled 
with  hundreds  of  arrows. 

The  Indians  now  turned  their  attention  to  Colter,  and  after  strip- 
ping him  quite  naked,  they  debated  on  how  they  should  dispose  of 
him.  After  a long  discussion — in  which  some  advocated  the  stake  ; 
others,  whipping  to  death ; others,  skinning  alive,  etc. — it  was 
finally  decided,  if  he  was  not  too  swift  a runner,  to  give  him  a good, 
long  chase,  and  then,  when  they  had  recaptured  him,  burn  him  at 
the  stake. 

This  decision  arrived  at,  one  of  the  chiefs  approached  the  captive, 
and  asked  him  if  he  was  a good  runner.  Pleased  at  even  the  small 
chance  of  escape  thus  offered,  Colter  told  h5m  that  he  was  a very 
poor  runner,  indeed,  while  the  fact  is,  he  was  one  of  the  swiftest 
foot-racers  on  the  border.  His  reply  was  hailed  with  loud  shouts, 
and  he  was  led  out  on  to  the  sandy  plain  by  the  chief.  Here  the 
six  hundred  armed  Indians  were  stationed,  and  the  naked  white  man 
was  given  a start  of  two  or  three  hundred  yards,  with  the  privilege 
of  saving  himself,  if  he  could. 

With  a fierce  whoop  from  the  savages,  that  echoed  far  and  near, 
the  race  began.  Like  a greyhound,  from  the  leash,  the  white  man 
bounded  forward,  and  the  confiding  Blackfeet  saw  that  it  would  take 
their  best  running,  if  they  hoped  ever  to  get  near  enough  even  to 
shoot  him.  They  had,  however,  one  great  advantage,  and  on  this 
they  relied  ; the  feet  of  the  white  man  were  naked,  while  theirs 
were  clothed  with  strong  moccasins,  and  the  plain  was  thickly  set 
with  sand-burs,  cacti  and  prickly  pears.  Thes^  pierced  Colter’s 
feet  cruelly,  but  he  did  not  falter  in  his  race  for  life. 

He  had  run  three  of  the  six  miles,  that  lay  between  him  and  the 
Jefferson  Fork  of  the  Missouri — to  which  he  had  directed  his 
course — before  he  dared  to  look  back.  That  hurried  glance  showed 


424 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


him,  that  he  had  distanced  all  save  one  of  his  pursuers.  This  one 
carried  a spear  in  his  hand,  and  was  coming  on  with  the  speed  of 
the  wind.  The  gap  between  them  was  not  more  than  a hundred 
yards,  and  he  realized  that  the  Indian  had  been  steadily  gaining 
on  him. 

Determined  to  escape,  he  now  out  forth  a superhuman  effort, 


SCENE  OF  COLTER’S  RACE  FOR  LIFE. 


and  this  came  near  proving  fatal,  for  a slight  hemorrhage  was  occas- 
sioned,  and  the  blood  burst  from  his  nostrils,  weakening  and  almost 
strangling  him.  Keeping  on  with  all  the  speed  possible,  he  had 
reached  a point  within  a mile  of  the  river,  when  he  again  looked 
back.  The  Indian  was  within  twenty  yards  of  him  ! Finding  that 
escape  by  flight  was  now  out  of  the  question,  he  whirled  suddenly 


colter's  race  for  life. 


42f> 


and  opened  his  arms.  His  unexpected  action  and  bloody  appear- 
ance, so  surprised  the  savage,  that,  in  attempting  to  check  his  head- 
way, in  order  that  he  might  dart  his  spear,  he  stumbled  exhausted 
to  the  ground,  while  the  lance,  flying  from  his  hand,  stuck  into  the 
earth  a considerable  distance  ahead  of  him,  and  broke  off. 

Darting  swiftly  back  to  the  savage,  Colter  seized  the  piece  of  the 
spear  containing  the  head,  and  drove  it  through  his  pursuer,  pinning 
him  to  the  earth  a corpse.  The  trapper  then  turned  and  sped  on, 
as  well  as  he  was  able,  exhausted  by  loss  of  blood  and  his  terrible 
race.  He  reached  Jefferson’s  Fork  some  distance  ahead  of  his 
pursuers,  plunged  in,  and  swam  down  some  distance  to  a rack-heap, 
or  drift,  that  had  lodged  against  the  head  of  an  island.  Diving 
under  this  drift,  he  succeeded,  after  nearly  drowning  himself,  in 
getting  his  head  above  water,  between  two  of  the  logs. 

The  Indians,  on  coming  to  the  dead  chief,  waited  there  until  all 
had  gathered  around,  and  then,  after  terrific  yells,  set  out  again  in 
pursuit  of  Colter.  This  time  had  been  well  improved  by  the  flying 
trapper,  as  we  have  already  seen.  When  the  savages  reached  the 
bank,  they  surmised  the  course  of  their  captive,  and  swimming  out 
to  the  drift,  they  punched  about  it  and  searched  in  every  direction, 
but  after  spending  nearly  the  whole  day  in  vain  efforts  to  find  him, 
they  concluded  that  the  trapper  must  have  been  drowned,  and  draw- 
ing off,  Colter  heard  their  wailing  as  they  again  gathered  around 
their  fallen  chief.  This  grew  fainter  and  fainter  as  they  pursued 
their  way  back  to  their  camp,  and  finally  died  away  entirely. 

Colter  afterward  said,  that  his  greatest  fear  was,  that  the  savages 
might  set  fire  to  the  drift,  and  thus  force  him  out,  but  the  idea 
never  seems  to  have  entered  their  minds.  After  the  Indians  had 
departed,  Colter  had  time  to  study  over  the  terrible  difficulties  that 
still  beset  him,  and  surely  they  were  enough  to  have  appalled  the 
heart  of  the  bravest. 

Here  he  was,  naked,  his  feet  torn  by  the  sharp  rocks,  and  filled 
with  the  thorns  and  thistles  over  which  he  had  trampled  in  his  awful 
race.  He  was  without  the  means  of  supporting  life,  by  the  killing 
of  game,  since  he  had  no  weapon,  and  subjected  to  the  blistering 
sun  by  day,  and  the  chill  dews  by  night,  his  lot  promised  indeed  to 
be  one  of  peculiar  hardship,  if  not  of  certain  death. 

Afar  from  all  settlements,  the  nearest  post  was  Lisa’s  fort  on  the 
Yellowstone,  which  he  could  not  hope  to  reach  in  less  than  a week. 


426 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


But  Colter  belonged  to  that  iron  race  of  men  who  never  know  des- 

n 


pair,  and  boldly  facing  all  difficulties  and  dangers,  he  arrived  at  the 
trading  post  of  the  Spaniard  in  seven  days,  having  subsisted  during 
all  that  time  on  the  wild  plant  known  as  sheep  sorel,  and  the  roots 

of  the  few  weeds  and  grasses  peculiar  to 
that  region.  He  had  suffered  the  greatest 
agony  from  hunger  and  thirst,  and  the  fierce 
sun  had  blistered  him  from  head  to  heel. 
The  chill  night  winds,  too,  had  added  greatly 
to  his  torture,  but  the  hero  had  defied  all 
hardships  and  in  ten  days  after  his  arrival  at 
this  frontier  post,  was  again  ready  for  serv- 
ice. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


BILL  GORDON. 


A LAUGHING  PHILOSOPHER A CHEERFUL  COMRADE HIS  ADVENTURE  AT 

THE  ARICKARA  VILLAGE SAVES  AN  OLD  SQUAW CURSE  OR  BLESSING? 

CAMP-FIRE  ANECDOTES WONDERING  SAVAGES GLASS’  ADVEN- 
TURE WITH  A GRIZZLY  BEAR A ONE-SIDED  BATTLE DESPERATELY 

WOUNDED NATURE’S  MEDICAMENT LEFT  TO  DIE FAITHLESS  NURSES 

A GREAT  SURPRISE GORDON’S  IRE AN  INTERRUPTED  SIESTA 

SMITH  FINDS  A GRIZZLY THE  RESULT GETS  WELL GEORGE  YULE’S 

ADVENTURE HIS  RETREAT  TO  CAMP NARROW  ESCAPE OLD  SLOAN 

RANGE LYME  CHANEY,  THE  TRAPPER KILLS  A GRIZZLY GID  FRA- 
ZIER  A FAMOUS  BEAR  HUNTER AN  AUTHORITY  ON  GRIZZLIES GOR- 
DON AND  “OLD  BILL”  WILLIAMS  ON  A HUNT SEPARATE THE  SHOT 

THE  VOLLEY A SWIFT  RETREAT A DEAD  CHIEF THE  LAST  RESORT 

TRAPPERS  SWIM  THE  COLUMBIA LOSE  THEIR  ARMS REACH  A 

POST PROCURE  RIFLES RETURN  TO  SALT  LAKE A FAMILIAR  VOICE 

FIND  OLD  BILL ON  A HUNT. 


Bill  Gordon  was  the  laughing  philosopher  of  the  trappers.  He 
took  life  easy,  and  did  not  intend  to  cross  a bridge  or  a creek  until 
he  came  to  it.  His  creed  might  be  summed  up  in  a single  sentence: 
“Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof.”  It  is  doubtful  if  he 
could  have  guessed  from  what  volume  this  line  was  selected,  but  no 
worshipper  of  the  gentle  Nazarene  could  more  truly  have  followed 
out  its  literal  meaning.  Around  the  camp-fire  he  joked,  told  tales — 
some  of  which  were  not  exactly  fit  for  a lady’s  boudoir — and 
laughed. 

On  the  long  and  lonely  hunt,  or  when  setting  his  traps,  he  chuck- 
led, not  loud,  but  merrily.  On  the  toilsome  march — when  the  sandy 
soil  of  the  plains  had  drunk  up  every  vestige  of  water,  and  the  tor- 
tures of  thirst  consumed  them — and  in  the  bleak  and  sterile  moun- 
tains— where  was  to  be  found  no  trace  of  bird  or  beast,  and  the 
fierce  pangs  of  hunger  gnawed  at  their  vitals — Gordon  still  laughed, 
and  with  song  and  jest  cheered  on  his  weaker  comrades. 

In  the  battle,  too,  he  laughed,  but  here  his  cachination  lost  its 
merriment,  and  froze  the  blood  of  his  enemies  with  its  appalling 
sound — it  was  now  the  roar  of  the  lion,  the  scream  of  the  panther. 
Thus  he  laughed,  when  he  dashed  into  the  Arickara  village,  in  advance 

^427, 


428 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


of  all  his  comrades,  rifle  in  one  hand,  torch  in  the  other  and  fired 
this  den  of  thieves  and  murderers.  In  all  the  village,  but  one  living 
thing  was  left,  when  the  trappers  had  swept  it  with  fire  and  ball — an 
old  woman,  so  old  that  she  might  have  counted  her  years  by  the  cen- 
tury; so  decrepid  that  she  might  have  been  a thing  of  wood  and 
stone,  so  far  as  all  locomotion  or  power  of  escape  went. 

The  Sioux  would  have  killed  her  for  a witch,  but  Gordon  told  them 
that  she  was  old  and  a woman,  and  that  age  and  womanhood  must  be 
respected,  even  if  she  were  the  great-great-grand-mother  of  every 
Arickara  devil  ever  sent  into  the  world. 

Placing  her  in  a solitary  lodge,  with  a supply  of  water  and  pro- 
visions, Gordon  left  her,  and,  as  he  moved  off,  she  raised  her  hands 
toward  the  sun,  and  then  held  them  out  toward  the  good-natured 
trapper.  “She  is  cursing  him, ” said  the  Sioux.  It  may  have  been, 
or  the  poor  pagan  might  have  called  for  a blessing  on  the  laughing 
brave,  who,  even  in  an  Arickara  squaw,  could  reverence  the  sex  of 
his  mother.  Whether  it  was  curse  or  praise,  did  not  affect  the  firm 
soul  of  Gordon,  and  that  night,  as  soldier,  Sioux  and  trapper  smoked 
around  their  camp-fires,  and  told  over  the  incidents  of  the  day, 
Gordon  selected  only  the  ludicrous,  and  soon  his  auditors  roared 
with  him ; even  the  stoical  savages — who  marveled  that  a man  could 
fight  so  like  a demon,  and  laugh  so  like  a squaw — relaxing  somewhat 
of  their  gravity. 

And  yet  the  man  could  be  serious — none  more  so — when  the  time 
demanded  it.  On  one  occasion,  one  of  their  comrades,  named  Glass, 
ventured  into  a thicket,  where  a grizzly  bear,  or,  as  the  old  trappers 
always  called  them,  a white  bear,  was  enjoying  an  afternoon  siesta. 
Never  the  most  amiable  of  creatures,  the  disturbance  of  its  post- 
prandial slumbers  made  it  furious,  and  in  less  than  a minute  after 
his  intrusion  into  the  bed-chamber  of  madam e,  Glass  was  ejected, 
with  two  ribs  broken,  his  scalp  torn  almost  entirely  off,  and  minus 
one  ear. 

When  the  one-sided  battle  had  progressed  so  far,  some  of  Glass’ 
comrades  came  up,  and  firing  upon  the  bear,  she  retreated.  Glass 
was  borne  into  camp  more  dead  than  alive,  his  scalp  sewed  together, 
as  well  as  possible,  with  fine  deer  sinews,  and  nature’s  grand  med- 
icament, cold  water,  constantly  applied  to  his  wounds. 

This  treatment  was  continued  for  a week,  and  then,  as  it  was  nec- 
essary to  move  their  camp,  the  trappers,  leaving  two  men  in  charge 


BILL  GORDON. 


429 


of  Glass,  to  wait  with  him  until  he  should  die  and  then  to  bury  him, 
went  on  to  the  place  selected  for  the  new  camp.  They  did  not 
expect  the  wounded  man  to  get  well,  and  when  the  two  nurses 
appeared  in  a few  days,  and  stated  that  they  had  buried  Glass,  it 
occasioned  no  surprise.  But  when,  some  ten  days  later,  Glass  him- 
self came  crawling  into  camp,  on  his  hands  and  knees,  and  told  how 
he  had  been  deserted,  and  forced  to  subsist  on  grass-roots,  while 
making  his  slow  and  painful  way  to  the  new  camp,  there  were  sev- 
eral badly  surprised  persons,  and  for  once  Gordon  forgot  to  laugh. 

With  fierce  oaths  he  demanded  the  death  of  the  watchers,  who 
had  deserted  a comrade  in  distress,  and  it  was  only  after  the  most 
abject  petitions  for  mercy,  that  Gordon  concluded  to  let  them  live. 
The  scene  of  Glass’  terrible  adventure  with  the  grizzly,  was  the  site 
of  Custer’s  fatal  battle  on  the  Bosebud,  with  the  Sioux,  under  Sit- 
ting Bull — by  far  the  greatest  of  all  their  modern  chiefs. 

Another  of  the  trappers — one  of  the  numerous  Smith  family,  who 
had  adopted  that  adventurous  life — was  terribly  mangled  by  a grizzly 
bear,  but  with  their  rude  surgery  and  cold  water,  they  brought  him 
through,  and,  with  the  exception  of  a missing  ear  or  so,  and  a scalp 
set  back  somewhat  awry,  he  was  as  proper  looking  a man  as  ever. 
In  their  numerous  encounters  with  grizzly  bears,  these  were  the 
only  two  men  ever  seriously  injured  by  them.  It  is  probable,  that 
these  animals  had  some  food  cached  in  the  vicinity  of  their  retreat. 

In  such  cases,  they  invariably  attack  any  intruder,  who  may  hap- 
pen upon  the  scene.  A friend  of  mine,  George  Yule — the  present 
sheriff  of  Gunnison  County,  Colorado — took  a stroll  out  from  camp 
one  day,  and  was  struck  down  by  the  rush  of  a grizzly,  that  had 
cached  the  carcass  of  a deer  beneath  some  brush.  As  he  fell,  he 
had  sufficient  presence  of  mind  to  lie  perfectly  quiet,  when,  as  is 
usual  with  them,  the  bear  bit  him  on  the  shoulder  and  the  thigh, 
and  then  left  him . 

Finding  himself  becoming  very  weak,  from  loss  of  blood,  Yule 
got  upon  his  feet,  and  ran  rapidly  toward  camp.  The  bear  pursued, 
and  Yule  took  to  a tree,  the  grizzly  being  unable  to  climb.  After 
smelling  around  the  tree,  and  grunting  terribly,  the  bear  retreated 
to  its  first  position,  and  lay  down  again.  Yule  seized  the  opportu- 
nity to  slide  down  the  tree,  and  again  start  toward  camp.  After 
running  about  two  hundred  yards,  he  looked  over  his  shoulder, 
and  found  the  bear  almost  upon  him. 


430 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


He  again  treed,  the  bear  this  time  catching  him  by  the  heel  just 
as  he  reached  the  first  branches,  but  he  succeeded  in  getting  loose, 
und  ascended  the  tree  out  of  his  reach.  Again  the  bear  returned  to 
his  post,  and  Yule,  now  within  a short  distance  of  his  camp,  suc- 
ceeded in  slipping  down  the  opposite  side  of  the  tree,  and  escaping. 
His  comrades  started  in  pursuit  of  the  grizzly,  found,  and  succeeded 
in  dispatching  him.  When  once  the  animals  have  wounded  a man 
and  escaped,  they  never  hesitate  at  assailing  a human  being,  and 
hence  it  is  the  invariable  custom  of  the  mountaineers  to  hunt  down 
any  of  them,  that  may  have  attacked  a man. 

Only  a considerable  amount  of  agility,  and  the  possession  of  a 
forty-five  caliber  Sharp’s  rifle,  saved  the  writer  from  a disaster  sim- 
ilar to  Yule’s,  in  the  “Old  Sloan”  range,  near  the  Tumichi  Kiver. 
In  this  range  a brave  old  trapper,  Lyme  Chaney,  (in  whose  hospit- 
able cabin  I’ve  taken  many  a meal  of  beaver  tail  and  slap-jacks), 
armed  only  with  a double-barrel  shot-gun,  slew  a man-killing  bear. 
Chaney  was  watching  a crossing,  for  deer,  and  was  lying  down  on 
his  blanket,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  stream,  when  he  heard  a 
crashing  of  brush,  and  looking  around,  saw  a grizzly  coming  toward 
him,  and  almost  in  hugging  distance. 

To  attempt  retreat  was  useless,  and  so,  but  two  courses  were  left: 
one  was  to  lie  still;  in  which  case,  after  a bite  or  two,  the  bear  would 
probably  leave  him;  the  other  was  to  fight.  The  old  man  chose  the 
latter,  and  rising,  he  cocked  both  barrels  of  his  weapon,  and  coolly 
waited  until  the  muzzle  of  the  gun  would  touch  the  bear’s  head. 
The  grizzly  now  opened  his  mouth,  coming  right  at  Chaney,  when 
the  trapper,  as  quick  as  thought,  thrust  his  gun  againt  the  roof  of 
the  bear’s  mouth  and  fired. 

The  gun  was  heavily  charged  with  buck-shot,  and  the  recoil 
kicked  Chaney  into  the  bushes,  almost  dislocating  his  shoulder,  and 
bruising  the  right  side  of  his  face  terribly ; and  when  he  came  to  look 
at  the  bear,  he  found  the  top  of  its  head  blown  to  pieces,  and  the 
animal  as  dead  as  Julius  Caesar. 

Gid  Frazier — brave,  honest  and  chivalrous;  Gid,  the  hopeful 
seeker  after  delusive  prospects;  Gid,  whose  heart  is  as  big  as  a barn, 
and  whose  head  is  as  clear  as  a bell,  and  who  has  probably  assisted 
at  the  death  of  more  of  these  monsters  than  any  other  man  living  or 
dead — jumped  a bear  in  a mountain  trail  one  day  and  the  two  eyed 
each  other  for  minutes,  that  seemed  to  the  prospector  hours.  Neither 


BILL  GORDON. 


431 


was  inclined  to  fly,  and  as  Frazier  was  unarmed,  he  knew  that 
retreat  meant  certain  wounds,  and  probably  death. 

Thus  they  stood,  like  carved  statues,  until  the  sound  of  voices — 
from  Frazier’s  companions — was  heard,  when  the  bear  turned  oft  up 
the  mountain  side  and  disappeared. 

To  some  enterprising  interviewer,  my  old  friend  Frazier — who 
now  lives  at  Canon  City,  Colorado — would  pan  out  immensely  on 
the  topic  of  grizzly  bears.  On  this  subject  his  fund  of  information 
is  most  complete,  and  his  anecdotes  more  interesting  than  those  of 
all  the  other  hunters,  whom  I have  ever  met.  Many  an  hour  has  he 
caused  to  fly  unheeded  by,  as  we  sat  around  our  mountain  camp-fires, 
after  days  spent  in  the  toilsome  search  for  “true  fissures”  and 
“carbonate  deposits,”  “placers  and  quartz  leads.”  So  much  for  the 
grizzly,  the  most  powerful  and  ferocious  of  brutes;  outdoing,  in 
nerve,  vitality  and  strength,  the  Lybian  lion,  and  man-slaying  tiger 
of  the  East  Indian  jungles. 

On  the  banks  of  the  Columbia,  Gordon  and  “Old  Bill”  Williams 
started  off  into  the  mountains  to  bring  some  game  into  camp,  as  the 
party  were  about  out  of  provisions.  On  the  banks  of  a small  stream, 
they  separated,  and  in  a short  time  Gordon  heard  a single  shot,  then 
a series  of  wild  yells,  and  a loud  volley.  “Old  Bill’s  wiped  out  at 
last,”  said  Gordon  to  himself,  as  he  turned  back  toward  camp, 
rightly  surmising  that  the  savages  would  take  Williams’  back  trail, 
and  endeavor  to  find  and  surprise  the  camp.  Starting  off  in  a swift 
run,  Gordon  looked  over  his  shoulder,  and  beheld  a swarm  of  the 
hated  Blackfeet  following  hotly  in  pursuit. 

He  did  not  fear  that  he  would  be  overtaken,  but  he  knew  that  his 
comrades,  reduced  to  thirteen,  counting  himself,  would  be  unable  to 
resist  the  hundreds  of  Blackfeet  coming  along  in  his  rear.  As  he  ran 
he  thought  over  every  method  of  escape,  and  finally  determined,  that 
nothing  was  left  but  to  swim  the  Columbia  and  endeavor  to  reach 
one  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company’s  posts.  Having  come  to  this  con- 
clusion, he  halted,  and  taking  a quick  aim  at  the  foremost  Indian — 
distant  about  one  hundred  yards— fired. 

His  rifle  was  one  of  Sam.  Ilawken’s  make,  and  had  never  failed 
him,  and  as  its  sharp  report  rang  out,  the  savage  leaped  headlong  into 
the  air,  and  fell  dead.  The  others  coming  up,  halted  for  a few  min- 
utes about  their  dead  chief,  while  Gordon,  with  a whoop  of  triumph, 
darted  on  to  the  camp.  No  time  was  to  be  lost,  and  dashing  their 


432 


CONQUEEING  THE  WILDEENESS. 


guns  into  the  river — to  prevent  them  from  falling  into  the  hands  of 
the  Blackfeet — they  threw  after  them  their  ammunition,  and  then, 
plunging  into  the  stream,  swam  across.  With  the  exception  of  one 
man,  wounded  by  accident,  all  got  over  in  safety,  and  the  Indians 
fearing  to  follow,  they  made  their  way  unmolested  to  a post  some 
distance  down  the  river. 

Their  only  arms  left  were  their  pistols,  and  with  these  they  man- 
aged to  secure  game  enough  to  supply  them  on  their  journey.  At 
the  post  they  secured  guns  and  ammunition,  and  in  a few  days  set 
out  on  their  return  to  the  Great  Salt  Lake.  On  their  way  up  the 
river,  they  one  day  heard  a familiar  voice  floating  down  the  stream, 
damning  all  rapids,  falls  and  obstructions  to  decent  navigation,  and 
pushing  through  the  thick  brush  to  the  bank,  they  saw  “Old  Bill” 
Williams  astride  of  a log,  making  his  way  down  the  swift  current. 
When  he  saw  them,  the  “old  solitary”  held  up  his  rifle, ornamented 
with  three  fresh  scalps,  and  paddling  in  to  the  bank  again,  he 
rejoined  them.  On  their  way  back  to  the  Great  Salt  Lake,  nothing 
of  particular  interest  occurred. 

When  they  left  Salt  Lake,  on  their  return,  and  after  they  had 
buried  the  Snake  chief,  Pirn,  Gordon,  with  Williams  and  two  others, 
made  a detour,  intending  to  rejoin  their  comrades  on  the  evening  of 
the  second  day.  They  had  now  reached  the  country  of  the  Black- 
feet,  and  Eddie,  Fitzpatrick  and  others  advised  them  to  stick  to  the 
party,  and  make  no  excursions  like  the  one  contemplated,  as  it 
would  only  tend  to  weaken  the  main  body,  and  serve  no  useful, 
purpose. 

To  this  “Old  Bill”  Williams  replied,  that  he  had  got  tired  of 
traveling  with  so  many  men,  and  that  no  matter  what  Gordon  and 
the  others  might  do,  he  intended  to  take  a hunt  for  a day  or  two, 
even  if  he  had  to  turn  back  to  Bear  River  to  do  so.  Gordon  and 
the  others  concluded  to  go  with  him,  and  accordingly  they  set  out 
one  morning,  just  as  all  were  breaking  camp. 


CHAPTER  Xn. 


THRILLING  ADVENTURES  AND  DEATH  OP  GORDON. 


AN  UNLUCKY  DETOUR AN  INJURED  COMRADE FURTHER  MISFORTUNES * 

THE  BLACKFOOT  SPY HIS  DEATH “OLD  BILL’S”  REMARK GORDON’S 

PROPHECY THE  RETREAT THE  MORNING  CALL PURSUED  BY  BLACK- 

FEET A TRYING  SITUATION SUFFERINGS  OF  LAJEUNESSE THE  FOR- 
TIFIED CAMP A COURAGEOUS  INDIAN GORDON’S  DETERMINATION 

REACHES  THE  CRAG DEATH  OF  THE  CHIEF GORDON  KILLS  FOUR 

INDIANS HIS  STRATAGEM  DISCOVERED A FIERCE  RUSH AN  INTREPID 

DEFENSE RETREAT  OF  THE  INDIANS SIGNAL  FIRES ANXIETY  OF 

GORDON CONCLUDES  TO  RETREAT “OLD  BILL’S”  OBSTINACY 

ACROSS  THE  MOUNTAINS REJOIN  THEIR  COMRADES ATTACK  ON  THE 

WAGON  TRAIN INDIAN  FEAR  OF  GORDON THEIR  FLIGHT DAILY 

BATTLES GORDON'S  DEATH  ON  THE  YELLOWSTONE HIS  PROPHECY 

FULFILLED. 


The  trail  followed  by  the  main  body  of  the  trappers  led  through 
the  plain  to  the  south  of  the  range,  along  which  they  were  traveling, 
for  a greater  part  of  the  way,  and  Gordon  and  his  comrades  intended 
to  cross  these  mountains,  and  so  join  their  comrades  in  a day  or 
two,  hoping,  by  taking  this  shorter  route,  to  have  time  for  hunting. 
The  first  day  they  made  fair  progress,  and  camped  for  the  night  in 
a mountain  meadow,  or  park,  where  one  of  the  men — in  flying  from 
a grizzly,  which  he  had  wounded — fell  from  a slight  precipice,  and 
was  seriously  injured.  On  the  next  day  he  was  unable  to  travel, 
and  was  suffering  so  intensely,  that  the  situation  was  becoming 
serious. 

To  add  to  their  complications,  Gordon,  fancying  he  heard  voices 
in  conversation  one  moonlight  night,  as  he  was  returning  to  camp, 
crept  slyly  toward  the  sound,  and  beheld  a Blackfoot  spy  lying  upon 
a high  crag,  and  overlooking  the  camp  and  its  recumbent  figures. 
The  savage  evidently  suspected  no  interruption,  for  he  was  singing 
in  a suppressed  voice  the  monotonous  “Keh-hai,  Keh-hai,”  that 
passes  with  them  for  music. 

In  this  happy  state  of  mind  Gordon  found  him,  and  creeping 
noiselessly  up  to  him,  he  dismissed  him  to  the  happy  hunting 
grounds,  with  the  smile  still  on  his  face,  the  song  still  on  his  lips. 

433 


434 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


A single  blow  of  the  trapper’s  sharp  tomahawk  and  the  days  of 
horse  stealing  and  murder  were  over  for  this  Blackfoot. 

When  Gordon  carried  the  arms,  ammunition  and  scalp  of  the  Indian 
into  camp,  Williams  said  at  once:  “I  tell  yer,  boys  ! ef  thar’s  one, 
thar’s  more;  we  must  leave  here  to-night.”  The  injured  man  was 
able  to  walk,  by  being  assisted,  and  they  took  turn  about  helping 


THE  BLACKFOOT  SPY  ON  WATCH. 


him  along.  Their  aim  now  was  to  endeavor  to  reach  their  com- 
rades, for  on  all  sides  they  could  hear  the  howling  of  wolves  ar.u 
the  shrill  screams  of  owls,  and  they  were  too  keen  of  ear  not  to 
know  that  the  sounds  were  Indian  imitations.  They  supposed  that 
their  spy  had  been  missed,  and  that  they  were  surrounding  the 


THRILLING  ADVENTURES  AND  DEATH  OF  GORDON. 


435 


deserted  camp.  About  two  o’clock  they  heard  a terrible  chorus  of 
yells,  a volley  of  shots,  and  then  all  was  dead  silence. 

“That  was  a close  call,  boys!”  said  Gordon,  “but  the  Indian 
bullet  ain’t  moulded  that’ll  kill  me.” 

“Yer’d  better  not  crow  till  yer  out  of  the  woods,”  said  Williams; 
“it  ain’t  no  sure  thing  that  all  of  our  scalps  won’t  hang  in  the 
lodges  of  the  Blackfeet  this  winter.” 

“If  they  get  mine  they’re  welcome  to  it,”  said  Gordon,  “but 
they  will  have  to  pay  dear  for  it,”  and  they  continued  their  retreat 
in  silence,  and  as  rapidly  as  possible. 

All  through  the  next  day  they  proceeded  down  a narrow  valley, 
expecting  an  attack  hourly,  but  none  came.  At  night  they  camped 
and  put  out  a guard,  and  also  sent  one  man  ahead  to  hold  their 
comrades  until  they  could  come  up.  That  night  passed  off  quietly, 
and  they  began  to  think  they  had  escaped  their  foes,  when,  just  as 
they  wrere  leaving  camp  the  next  morning,  a volley  was  fired  into 
them.  Gordon,  “Old  Bill”  Williams  and  the  injured  man  were  all 
wounded,  but  none  of  them  seriously,  and  as  they  were  in  an 
exposed  situation,  while  the  Blackfeet  wTere  hidden  amongst  the 
rocks,  they  beat  a hasty  retreat,  following  the  valley  until  they 
could  see  some  point  where  they  could  make  a stand. 

The  Indians  did  not  push  them  closely,  evidently  fearing  their 
deadly  aim — with  which  these  Blackfeet  had  become  acquainted,  as 
the  trappers  had  passed  through  their  country  before — but  they 
hung  upon  their  trail  with  the  pertinacity  of  blood-hounds,  always 
keeping  in  sight,  and  firing  whenever  they  thought  they  could  hit  a 
man. 

That  night  the  man,  who  had  been  hurt  by  the  fall,  was  suffering 
a great  deal,  and  Gordon  selected  a strong  position  in  the  rocks, 
determined  to  hold  it  until  he' was  able  to  go  on.  The  next  morn- 
ing, about  daylight,  he  killed  a black  tail  deer,  and  got  it  safely 
into  camp.  No  attack  was  made  on  them  that  morning,  and  Lajeu- 
nesse,  the  injured  man,  was  getting  rapidly  better,  from  his  rest. 
Gordon  hoped  to  be  able  to  start  again  the  next  day,  but  about  four 
o’clock  that  afternoon,  the  trappers  saw  the  half  naked  forms  of  the 
savages  flitting  from  rock  to  rock,  drawing  a line  as  nearly  around 
them  as  possible.  Some  hours  before  sunset,  the  bullets  began 
to  fly  into  the  camp,  but  no  one  was  struck,  and  a breastwork  of 


43  G 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


the  loose  rocks  was  hastily  thrown  up,  behind  which  the  whites  lay 
in  perfect  safety. 

The  chief  of  the  party  of  Blackfeet  was  an  Indian  of  more  than 
usual  daring,  and  was  continually  working  his  way  nearer  to  the 
besieged  men,  hoping  to  secure  a situation  from  which  his  shots 
might  prove  effective.  Gordon  watched  him  with  great  anxiety, 
and  saw  that  if  he  could  only  reach  a high  crag,  toward  which  he 
was  gradually  making  his  way,  he  could,  without  the  slightest  dan- 
ger to  himself,  pick  off  himself  and  comrades.  This  was  the  only 
unguarded  point,  and  Gordon  saw,  that  before  the  chief  could  reach 
it,  he  would  for  some  fifty  feet  be  hid  from  view  of  the  little  fort. 
His  mind  was  made  up  in  a moment.  To  allow  the  chief  to  gain 
the  crag,  would  give  him  an  opportunity  to  kill  himself  and  com- 
panions, and  a bold  dash  might  prevent  it.  He  would  try  it. 

Leaving  his  rifle,  he  began  crawling  toward  a slight  ravine,  that 
led  out  toward  the  crag,  and  succeeded  in  reaching  it  unobserved  by 
the  savages.  From  here  his  progress  was  more  rapid,  and  he  soon 
reached  the  base  of  the  crag.  He  now  had  a slight  advantage,  as  the 
Indian  had  a space  of  twenty  or  thirty  feet  over  which  he  must 
either  crawl  or  make  a swift  dash;  in  which  case  Williams  might  be 
able  to  reach  him  with  a bullet  from  the  fort.  Crouching  at  the 
foot  of  the  crag,  pistol  in  hand,  Gordon  chuckled  to  himself  to 
think  how  surprised  the  Blackfoot  would  be  to  see  the  trapper  here 
ahead  of  him. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait,  for  in  a few  moments  the  savage  came 
over  the  slight  rise  and,  after  a quick  glance  at  the  fort,  began 
crawling  toward  the  crag.  He  evidently  feared  that  the  keen  eyed 
trappers  might  be  able  to  pick  him  off,  if  he  attempted  the  bolder 
measure  of  making  a run  across  the  open  space.  It  was  one  time 
in  his  career  when  boldness  would  have  proved  safety.  As  he 
crawled  along,  Gordon  was  entirely  concealed  from  his  view,  and 
the  trapper  now  changed  his  original  plan  of  action. 

Taking  the  pistol  in  his  left  hand,  he  placed  his  tomahawk  in  his 
right,  and  waited  as  motionless  as  a statue.  The  chief  would  pass 
within  a few  feet  of  him,  and  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  dispatch  him 
without  the  necessity  of  firing  his  pistol.  Nearer  and  nearer  came 
the  Indian,  and  Gordon  crouched  like  a waiting  panther,  his  mus- 
cles strained  and  tense,  his  breathing  slow  and  labored. 


437 


THRILLING  ADVENTURES  AND  DEATH  OF  GORDON, 

The  Blackfoot  moved  with  the  silence  and  ease  of  a serpent,  and 
\yas  just  passing  the  spot  where  the  trapper  was  concealed,  when  the 
latter,  with  a furious  bound,  reached  him,  and  before  he  could  utter 
his  warning  whoop,  that  would  have  told  his  friends  of  misadventure, 
the  tomahawk  had  cloven  his  skull. 

Gordon  now  determined  to  make  use  of  the  dead  savage,  and 
accordingly  propped  him,  in  a crouching  position,  about  half  way 
up  the  crag,  as  if  he  lay  there  watching  the  besieged  trappers.  He 
hoped  that  the  savages — after  waiting  for  some  time,  and  hearing 
nothing  from  their  chief — would  dispatch  one  or  more  men  to  see  if 
any  accident  had  befallen  him . Having  arranged  the  corpse  in  as 
lifelike  an  attitude  as  possible,  Gordon  placed  himself  in  such  a 
position  that,  if  a considerable  number  of  the  Indians  appeared,  he 
could  retreat  either  to  the  crag  or  to  the  fortified  camp. 

Secreting  himself  very  carefully,  he  very  impatiently  waited.  The 
minutes  seemed  hours  to  the  impetuous  trapper,  but  at  last  he  was 
rewarded  by  seeing  the  tufted  head  of  an  Indian  appear  around  a 
point  of  rocks,  and  look  eagerly  toward  the  crag.  He  seemed  satis- 
fied with  the  survey,  for  getting  down  flat  upon  the  earth,  he  began 
crawling  swiftly  toward  his  chief,  and  would  soon  have  reached  him, 
had  not  fate,  in  the  person  of  Bill  Gordon,  interfered. 

When  he  reached  the  spot,  which  had  proved  the  last  of  earth’s 
journey  for  his  leader,  the  trapper  sprang  upon  him,  and  brained 
him  as  noiselessly  as  he  had  his  chief.  Another  decoy  was  added 
to  his  trap,  this  one  in  a sitting  position,  with  his  gun  across  his  lap, 
a & if  waiting  an  order  from  the  chief  before  firing.  Again  Gordon 
waited,  and  again  his  patience  was  rewarded,  and  three  silent  Indi- 
ans now  wTatched  the  trapper’s  citadel. 

The  fourth  Indian  appeared,  and  Gordon  waited  for  him,  as  for 
his  fellows,  but  was  this  time  doomed  to  a surprise,  for  just  as  he 
had  sent  his  weapon  crashing  through  the  brain  of  the  crawling  sav- 
age, he  heard  a fierce  whoop,  and  saw  half  a dozen  Blackfeet  com- 
ing over  the  rise  at  a swift  run.  Trusting  to  Williams  and  Lajeu- 
nesse  to  stop  at  least  one  of  them,  Gordon  seized  the  rifle  of  his  last 
victim  and  fired,  the  foremost  Indian  falling  dead. 

Losing  no  time,  he  secured  the  ammunition  of  the  savage,  and 
running  swiftly  up  the  sloping  crag,  he  took  one  of  the  rifles  of  the 
dead  men,  and  secreted  himself  quickly  in  the  slight  depression  on 
the  top  of  his  lonely  post.  At  his  shot,  the  Blackfeet  had  taken  to 


438 


Conquering  the  wilderness. 


the  shelter  of  the  rocks,  but  as  he  turned  in  flight,  they  came  out 
from  their  cover  and  fired.  The  distance  was  short,  but  in  their 
hurry  their  aim  was  poor,  and  Gordon  received  only  a slight  scratch 
across  the  shoulder.  Aiming  one  of  his  guns  at  the  five  Indians, 
who  had  now  advanced  into  the  open  space,  and  were  dancing  about 
to  confuse  his  aim,  a report  was  heard  from  the  camp,  and  an  Indian 
went  hopping  over  the  rise,  badly  wounded  in  one  of  his  legs. 

Another  shot  from  the  camp  missed  entirely,  and  Gordon,  too, 
had  poor  success,  his  rifle  flashing.  The  sudden  valor  of  the  sav- 
ages had,  by  this  time,  evaporated  and  they  dashed  back  over  the 
rise,  and  endeavored  to  regain  their  comrades.  This  they  found  a 
dangerous  proceeding,  for  while  they  were  hidden  from  view  of  the 
camp,  yet  they  were  in  easy  range  of  Gordon,  who  had  now  secured 
the  rifles  of  the  other  Indians.  Two  of  them  made  the  attempt,  one 
after  another,  and  both  were  fatally  wounded. 

From  his  knowledge  of  Indian  character,  Gordon  felt  satisfied 
that  if  they  could  cross  the  mountain  and  take  the  trail  to  the  east- 
ward, the  Indians  would  not  follow  after  such  serious  losses,  and  as 
he  feared  that  the  signal-fires — which  they  had  already  begun  to 
build — would  call  up  heavy  reinforcements,  that  might  be  able  to 
starve  them  out,  he  determined  to  attempt  to  make  his  way  back  to 
the  camp,  and,  with  his  comrades,  continue  their  retreat. 

Accordingly  breaking  the  stock  and  bending  the  barrel  of  one  of 
the  empty  rifles,  so  as  to  render  it  useless  to  the  Indians,  he  made  a 
dummy  and  placed  the  rifle,  as  if  levelled  on  the  open  space,  and  he 
felt  confident  that  it  would  be  some  time  before  the  savages  would 
venture  up  to  it,  to  see  if  it  was  real.  This  done,  he  secured  the 
arms,  ammunition  and  scalps  of  the  Blackfeet,  and  carefully  pro- 
ceeded to  camp. 

Here  he  suggested  a continuance  of  their  flight,  and  finally,  after 
much  persuasion,  succeeded  in  inducing  Williams  to  consent.  The 
latter,  at  first  wished  to  stay , and  give  the  Blackfeet  a good  drub- 
bing, now  that  they  had  found  so  good  a place  to  fight  from,  but  he 
listened  to  reason,  and  about  twelve  o’clock  that  night  they  made 
the  way  with  difficulty  across  the  rugged  mountain,  and  striking  the 
trail,  by  which  they  his  formerly  gone  westward,  they  made  good 
speed.  Lajeunesse  was  greatly  improved  by  his  rest,  and  they  were 
dogged  no  further  by  the  Blackfeet,  whose  crying  song  for  their 


THRILLING  ADVENTURES  AND  DEATH  OE  GORDON. 


439 


fallen  warriors,  they  could  plainly  hear,  as  they  left  their  beleagured 
camp. 

The  whole  life  of  Gordon  was  a tissue  of  daring  deeds  and  deadly 
perils.  Unlike  most  of  his  comrades,  he  cared  but  little  for  the 
pleasures  and  luxuries  of  civilization,  and  lived  continually  on  the 
border.  Once,  while  guiding  a party  of  immigrants  across  the 
plains,  in  his  later  days,  the  wagon  train  was  attacked  by  a party  of 
mounted  braves.  Recognizing,  from  their  peculiar  yells  and 
whoops,  his  old  enemies,  the  Blackfeet,  Gordon  sprang  from  the 


BILL  GORDON  RESCUING  A WAGON  TRAIN  FROM  THE  BLACKFEET. 

wagon,  in  which  he  had  been  lying  to  obtain  a little  rest — having 
stood  guard  the  night  before — and  advanced  a few  paces  toward  the 
savages. 

These  instantly  recogidzed  the  White  Wolf — as  they  called  him — 
and,  after  circling  around  for  a few  minutes,  they  rode  rapidly  off 
across  the  rolling  hills,  and  the  train  passed  on  in  safety.  Thus 
they  paid  their  tribute  of  admiration  and  fear  to  the  invincible 
trapper. 


440 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


As  he  had  prophetically  said  to  “Old  Bill”  Williams:  “The 
Indian  bullet  wasn’t  moulded  that  would  kill  Bill  Gordon.”  Fight- 
ing  almost  daily  with  some  band  of  savages,  though  often  wounded, 
Gordon  was  never  so  seriously  injured  but  that  he  was  able  to  march 
and  fight.  Up  to  the  day  of  his  death  he  continued  his  life  of  hunt- 
ing and  trapping.  When  death  came  to  him,  he  met  a fate  that, 
amongst  the  ancients,  was  accounted  an  especially  happy  one. 

He  was  crossing  the  Yellowstone  one  day,  in  the  midst  of  a vio- 
lent storm,  and  when  in  mid-stream  turned  to  laugh  at  his  comrades, 
who  were  evidently  uneasy  at  the  loudly  pealing  thunder,  and  the 
fierce  electric  flashes.  It  was  his  last  laugh.  A deafening  peal  of 
thunder,  a blinding  stroke  of  lightning,  and  the  body  of  the  trapper 
floated  upon  the  swift  current  of  the  Yellowstone.  On  his  lips  the 
smile  still  hovered,  but  out  of  his  eyes  the  light  had  flown,  and  his 
laugh  was  dumb  forever.  In  his  lonely  grave,  by  the  side  of  the 
brawling  river,  sleeps  one  of  the  most  daring  of  American  pioneers 
— Bill  Gordon,  the  trapper. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


“PEG  LEG”  SMITH. 


SMITH  AND  HTS  HORSE,  JIM  CROW ST.  LOUIS  ANECDOTES INSEPARABLE 

FRIENDS A FREQUENTER  OF  BAR-ROOMS THE  VARIOUS  USES  OF  A 

WOODEN  LEO SCATTERING  A CROWD ^REVERSING  A BULLY A TRIP 

TO  NEW  ORLEANS SLEEPS  WITH  HIS  HORSE FREQUENTS  “THE 

SWAMP” BOGART’S  COFFEE-HOUSE A ONE-LEGGED  CENTAUR THE 

CONSTABLE  AND  HIS  POSSE FLIGHT  FROM  ST.  LOUIS CHECKMATES 

HIS  PURSUERS REACHES  INDEPENDENCE RETURNS  TO  THE  MOUNT- 
AINS   A PLAINS  PIONEER A DESPERATE  ADVENTURE A SHARP 

TRICK THE  ESCAPE DUEL  WITH  THE  SIOUX  CHIEF THEY  BECOME 

FRIENDS A BRAVE  ESCORT IN  A PRECARIOUS  CONDITION TURNS 

HUNTER  FOR  A POST GOES  TO  SAN  FRANCISCO EXTREME  POVERTY 

A COMMON  DRUNKARD A PITIABLE  SPECTACLE END  OF  A HERO. 


From  Mr.  James  Little,  of  St.  Louis,  a great  many  anecdotes  of 
this  eccentric  trapper,  are  still  to  be  heard.  For  a long  time  it  was 
the  custom  of  Smith,  on  his  returns  from  the  mountains,  to  make 
St.  Louis  the  home  of  himself  and  his  horse,  Jim  Crow,  to  the 
intense  delight  of  the  small  boys,  with  whom  he  was  a prime 
favorite.  On  his  sprees,  which  differed  greatly  from  “angels’ 
visits,”  in  that  they  were  neither  “few  nor  far  between,”  he  was 
accustomed  to  collect  the  children  around  him,  and  then  he  would 
scatter  his  money  by  the  handfull,  to  see  the  urchins  tumbling  over 
each  other,  pushing,  kicking  and  fighting  for  the  spoils. 

He  was  often  a nuisance  to  the  saloon  keepers  of  that  day,  for  he 
rode  everywhere,-  even  up  to  the  bar  to  get  his  drinks,  and  always 
called  for  a toddy  for  his  horse,  as  often  as  he  took  one  himself. 
The  horse  drank  his  liquor  with  evident  relish,  and  the  two  were 
inseparable. 

“Peg-leg’s”  artificial  limb,  was  none  of  the  light,  ephemeral 
contrivances  of  to-day,  but  a good,  solid  stick  of  timber,  tapering 
to  a point  at  its  lower  end,  and  heavily  feruled  with  iron.  From  its 
upper  end,  ran  an  upright  as  high  as  his  waist,  and  by  this,  it  was 
belted  firmly  to  his  side.  Whenever  Peg-leg  got  into  a row,  in 
which  he  did  not  see  fit  to  use  his  rifle,  he  would  unbuckle  his  leg, 

441 


442 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


“quick  as  a wink,”  and  taking  it  by  its  upper  handle,  would  lay 
about  him  until  the  crowd  roared  for  mercy. 

Though  not  a very  large  man,  he  was  immensely  powerful,  and  on 
one  occasion,  took  a gigantic  German  bar-keeper,  who  had  said  he 
intended  to  whip  him,  and  turning  him  “end  for  end,”  stuck  him 
headforemost  into  an  empty  whiskey  barrel,  and  with  his  open  hand, 
began  to  administer  a castigation,  such  as  is  usually  bestowed  by 
angry  parents  upon  their  naughty  children. 

Taking  a notion  to  go  to  New  Orleans  at  one  time,  he  and  his 
horse  boarded  a steamer  bound  for  that  port.  Smith  became  very 
indignant,  because  Jim  Crow  couldn’t  take  cabin  passage.  Saying 
that  his  horse  was  as  good  a Christian  as  himself,  he  threw  his 
blankets  down  beside  the  animal,  and  slept  by  him  every  night  on 
his  way  down.  In  the  Crescent  City,  Smith  soon  became  as  well 
known  as  in  St.  Louis,  and  the  cry  of  “there  goes  Peg-Leg,”  was  at 
any  time  sure  to  gather  around  him  a mob  of  the  young  folks. 
“The  swamp”  was  greatly  frequented  by  him,  and  at  last,  when  his 
friends  were  ready  to  leave,  it  was  necessary  to  send  out  a party, 
to  bring  him  and  his  horse  back  to  the  boat.  His  return  to  St. 
Louis,  was  hailed  with  delight  by  his  young  friends,  and  Smith’s 
orgies  were  immediately  recommenced. 

A favorite  feat  of  his,  was  to  ride  Jim  Crow  up  the  steep  steps  of 
Bogart’s  coffee-house,  on  Market  Street,  near  Third,  and  when  they 
had  satisfied  their  thirst  with  sundry  juleps  and  toddies,  the  one- 
legged  centaur  would  coolly  ride  down  the  break-neck  descent.  At 
last,  however,  the  constable  with  his  writ  and  posse,  made  their 
arrangements  to  arrest  Smith,  but  in  some  way  the  fact  leaked  out, 
and  as  they  came  toward  him,  he  turned  on  his  horse,  bade  them 
depart  to  what  is  known,  in  the  new  version  of  the  Scriptures,  as 
Hades,  and  dashed  off  towards  St.  Charles. 

It  was  a tight  race,  but  the  man,  who  had  outwitted  Crow  and 
Blackfeet,  Sioux  and  Arickara,  did  not  fear  these  minious  of  the 
law,  and  reaching  the  ferry  in  advance  of  his  pursuers,  he  forced 
the  ferryman  to  pull  out  with  him,  for  the  other  side  of  the  river. 

When  the  posse  rode  up  to  the  bank,  Smith  was  in  the  middle  of 
the  stream,  and  his  gestures  toward  the  officers,  are  said  to  have 
been  more  forcible  and  expressive,  than  polite.  He  was  not  long  in 
reaching  Independence,  where  he  easily  procured  an  outfit,  and 
again  struck  out  for  the  mountains.  He  never  again  visited  St. 


UPEG  LEG**  SMITH.  443 

Louis,  and  when  urged  by  his  comrades  to  do  so,  always  said  that 
it  was  “getting  too  d — d civilized  for  old  Peg-leg.” 

Smith  was  one  of  the  pioneers  of  the  mountains  and  plains,  being 
one  of  the  fourteen  men  belonging  to  the  company  of  Ashley  and 
Henry,  who  first  made  their  way  across  the  mountains,  and  amongst 
whom  were  Thomas  Eddie,  W illiam  Sublette,  Fitzpatrick,  old  Bill 
Williams  and  others.  He  was  a man  of  great  bravery,  activity  and 
strength,  and  his  adventures  were  as  numerous  and  wonderful,  as 
those  of  any  of  his  comrades.  He  was  with  Ashley  in  the  terrible 


THE  CROW  VILLAGE  WHERE  ASHLEY’S  MEN  WINTERED. 


combat  at  the  Arickara  village,  and  acted  a gallant  part  in  that  fatal 
retreat  to  the  boats,  where  fully  as  many  were  drowned  as  were  cut 
down  by  the  bullets  and  arrows  of  the  Indians.  Ashley,  after  this 
disaster  and  his  retreat  below,  detached  fourteen  men,  with  instruc- 
tions, if  possible,  to  cross  the  mountains,  and  operate  on  the  head 
waters  and  tributaries  of  the  Columbia. 

With  great  difficulty,  and  in  the  midst  of  countless  perils,  they 
made  their  way  through  the  hostile  tribes,  and  wintered  that  season 
with  the  Crows,  who  were  at  that  time  friendly  to  the  trappers.  In 


444 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


a brush  with  the  Blackfeet,  after  the  spring  had  opened,  Smith  and 
a companion,  who  had  made  a long  trip  by  themselves,  and  pene- 
trated far  into  the  country  of  the  hostiles,  were  surrounded  one 
morning  in  camp,  and  both  severely  wounded. 

Luckily  they  had  camped  on  the  edge  of  a deep  ravine,  and  into 
this,  both  hastened  as  rapidly  as  possible,  amidst  the  yells  of  their 
savage  enemies.  The  Indians,  some  twenty  in  number,  now 
attempted  a faint  charge,  but  Big  Shield,  their  chief,  fell  beneath 
Smith’s  deadly  aim,  and  another  of  the  savages  was  mortally 
wounded. 

The  day  wore  on  with  a succession  of  skirmishes,  and  it  looked 
gloomy  for  the  trappers,  as  the  Indians  had  desisted  from  firing  upon 
them,  and  were  evidently  determined  to  hold  them  in  the  ravine 
until  hunger  should  force  them  out,  when  they  could  be  shot  down 
without  trouble.  The  trappers  were  confirmed  in  their  surmise, 
when  they  saw,  about  sunset,  two  of  the  band  detached,  either  for  pro- 
visions or  reinforcements,  and  probably  both.  When  night  came,  the 
alarm  whoops  of  the  Blackfeet  showed  them  that  they  were  com- 
pletely surrounded  by  a cordon  of  sentinels. 

The  fertile  mind  of  Smith  now  conceived  an  expedient,  which 
might  prove  successful  and,  if  it  failed,  they  could  still  try  and  cut 
their  way  out  before  the  arrival  of  dawn  and  a fresh  troop  of  enemies. 
Going  swiftly  to  work,  they  fashioned  two  figures,  and  placed  them 
in  their  positions  with  long  sticks  in  their  hands  to  represent  guns. 
Then  creeping  to  the  upper  end  of  the  ravine,  they  fired  their  guns 
and  pistols  rapidly,  uttering  the  most  terrific  whoops,  and  when  the 
savages  at  the  lower  end  of  the  ravine  came  swiftly  up,  the  two  trap- 
pers crept  noiselessly  through  the  line,  meeting  with  no  difficulty. 

Their  luse  had  succeeded;  the  Indians  thinking  they  were  endeav- 
oring to  cut  their  way  through  the  line  at  the  upper  end,  had  entirely 
deserted  their  posts,  at  the  lower,  and  when  their  mistake  was  dis- 
covered, they  were  no  doubt  led  to  believe,  by  the  dummy  figures, 
that  the  trappers  had  retired  to  their  old  position.  Covering  their 
trail  as  well  as  they  could,  Smith  and  his  comrade  sought  an  almost 
inaccessible  part  of  the  mountain,  where  they  remained  for  two  days 
and  then  returned  to  their  former  camp,  dug  up  their  cached  pel- 
tries, and  regained  the  Crow  village  in  safety. 

Another  exploit  of  Peg-Leg  was  his  duel  with  a Sioux  chief,  on 
the  upper  waters  of  the  Platte  Kiver.  Smith  had  been  dogged  by  a 


445 


“PEG  leg”  SMITH. 

party  of  these  Indians — while  out  on  a solitary  expedition — for  three 
days,  and  in  consequence  of  the  watchfulness  necessary  to  preserve 
his  life,  had  became  desperate  from  want  of  sleep.  On  the  after- 
noon of  the  third  day,  while  cooking  his  dinner,  a shower  of  arrows 
fell  in  his  camp,  and  one  of  them  inflicted  a painful  but  not  danger- 
ous wound  upon  the  trapper. 

Infuriated  beyond  control,  Smith  rushed  toward  the  party  and 
shot  one  of  them  dead  with  his  rifle.  Knowing  that  he  would  not 
have  time  to  reload,  he  threw  aside  his  gun,  and  mounting  his  Flat- 
head  horse,  dashed  on  toward  the  band.  Their  chief,  Tah-ton-ka 
Raw  (Buffalo  Robe)  was  a fine  looking  young  Sioux  with  the  brawn 
of  a Hercules  and  grace  of  an  Apollo,  and  was  as  brave  and  chival- 
rous as  he  was  stalwart  and  handsome.  When  he  saw  Smith  com- 
ing toward  them,  he  waved  his  warriors  back,  and  rode  out  alone  to 
meet  him. 

A3  they  neared  each  other,  Smith  drew  his  pistol  and  the  Robe 
drew  from  its  case  a polished  horn  bow,  as  strong  as  steel,  and  each 
fired.  Smith’s  bullet  passed  through  the  fleshy  part  of  the  left 
breast  of  the  Sioux,  and  the  Indian’s  arrow  ripped  an  ugly  furrow 
across  Smith’s  cheek.  Drawing  their  tomahawks,  they  dashed  past 
each  other  several  times,  without  seeing  a chance  to  strike,  but  at 
last  Smith,  as  the  horses  again  met,  struck  the  noble  steed  of  the 
savage  between  the  eyes,  and  as  he  stumbled  and  fell,  caught  the 
weapon  of  the  Sioux  upon  his  arm,  and  with  a powerful  sweep  of 
his  tomahawk,  knocked  the  Robe  to  the  earth.  Just  then  a yell  of 
rage  arose  from  the  savages  ; and  Smith’s  horse  stumbled  in  a prairie- 
dog’s  hole  and  threw  its  rider,  Smith  falling  almost  across  the  body 
of  his  prostrate  foe,  whom,  to  his  surprise,  he  found  to  be  still  liv- 
ing. His  tomahawk,  in  striking  the  horse,  had  become  turned  in 
his  hand,  and  his  blow  upon  the  rider  had  been  delivered  with  the 
flat  of  the  weapon. 

Hastily  disarming  the  chief,  Smith  assisted  him  to  his  feet,  and  as 
the  Sioux  were  coming  on  rapidly,  he  raised  his  tomahawk,  and  by 
motions,  showed  them  that  if  they  came  any  closer,  he  would  brain 
his  captive.  The  latter  had  now  entirely  recovered,  and  putting  his 
right  hand  first  upon  his  heart,  and  next  touching  his  lips  and  throw- 
ing his  hand  straight  out  from  his  mouth,  he  offered  it  to  Smith, 
saying:  “ How  coloh , hache  too  a lo ,”  (thanks,  friend,  I am 


446 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


obliged  to  you).  Smith  having  taken  his  hand,  he  called  to  his 
warriors  to  dismount,  lay  down  their  arms  and  approach. 

Smith,  who  had  every  confidence  in  the  honor  of  the  brave,  young 
savage,  replaced  his  tomahawk,  and  seated  in  a circle,  they  had  a 


TAH-TON— KAH  HAW,  (BULL  ROBE,)  A YOUNG  SIOUX  CHIEF  CAPTURED  BY  SMITH. 

wa-kali-jpah-me-ne  smoke,  and  were  soon  upon  the  most  friendly 
terms.  They  remained  together  for  over  a week,  and  Smith  was 
escorted  by  them  through  the  most  dangerous  part  of  the  Arapaho 
country,  and  when  at  last  they  separated,  the  young  chief  seemed 


447 


“PEG  LEG”  SMITH. 

overcome  with  grief.  Two  years  afterward  the  gallant  Robe  was 
killed,  while  fighting  desperately  against  an  overpowering  force  of 
Cheyennes  and  Blackfeet. 

When  at  last  trapping  ceased  to  afford  a living  to  its  followers, 
Smith  was  left  in  a very  precarious  condition.  He  was  becoming 
too  old  to  continue  the  avocation  of  a hunter  for  frontier  posts- 
which  he  had  adopted, , ifter  he  quit  trapping — and  besides,  his  long- 
ing for  an  indulgence  in  whisky  kept  him  always  near  some  town  or 
city,  where  this  taste  might  be  gratified.  It  is  the  opinion  of  Mr. 
Richard  Dowling,  of  St.  Louis,  who  knew  all  of  the  mountain  men, 
that  he  finally  made  his  way  to  San  Francisco,  where  he  lived  upon 
the  alms  of  strangers,  happy  if  he  could  procure  the  small  sums 
necessary  to  enable  him  to  indulge  in  the  potent  beverages,  which 
had  wrecked  his  usefulness  and  ambition. 

The  life  of  4 ‘Peg-Leg”  Smith,  like  that  of  his  comrades,  was  full 
of  heroic  exploits — in  fact,  the  recounting  of  all  of  them,  or  even 
the  most  important,  ivould  of  themselves  fill  a volume  of  no  small 
proportions.  Indian  fights  and  desperate  adventures  were  to  them 
matters  of  every  day  occurrence,  and  no  more  treasured  in  their 
memories  than  the  hum-drum  happenings  of  the  uneventful  lives  of 
the  farmer  and  the  merchant. 

This  indifference  of  theirs,  to  matters  of  exciting  interest,  has 
rendered  it  extremely  difficult  to  do  to  them  the  justice  of  preserving 
the  heroic  part  they  played  in  their  country’s  history.  None  of 
them  were  braggarts,  and  while  each  might  tell  with  pleasure  of  his 
comrade’s  daring  deeds,  yet  his  own  would  never  elicit  from  him  a 
single  word  of  praise. 

It  is  only  by  searching  every  avenue,  that  might  lead  to  impor- 
tant disclosures,  that  we  have  been  enabled  to  present,  as  fully  as  we 
have  done,  the  character  and  actions  of  these  plainsmen  and  moun- 
taineers, and  it  will  be  found  not  only  the  fullest  record  of  their 
adventures,  but  the  only  one,  that  even  makes  an  effort  to  recount 
the  deeds,  and  perpetuate  the  names  of  the  true  pioneers  of  this  por- 
tion of  the  country.  Of  these  men  Smith  was  one,  and  no  matter 
how  irregular  his  life,  or  how  miserable  his  end,  he  played  the  part 
of  a brave  hero,  in  the  strife  of  the  few  against  the  many,  and  with 
true  Anglo-Norman  courage  and  endurance,  made  possible  the  settle- 
ment of  our  western  wilds, 


CHAPTEK  XIV. 


“OLD  BILL”  WILLIAMS. 


4.  NATIVE  OF  TENNESSEE AN  OLD  SCOUT A BORN  WARRIOR ROSE,  THE 

RENEGADE ONE  OF  MURRELL’S  LAND  PIRATES A MYSTERIOUS  MAN 

HIS  DARING  DEEDS HIS  GENERALSHIP CONSPIRACY  AGAINST  HIM 

THE  CROW  MEDICINE  MAN THE  SUMMONS PREPARES  FOR  DEATH 

RUNS  AMUCK DIES  LIKE  A WARRIOR OLD  JO  JEWETT’S  STORY WIL- 
LIAMS’ ANECDOTE KILLS  THREE  WARRIORS HIS  ESCAPE A LONELY 

LIFE THE  FRENCH  TRAPPER AN  EASTERN  FABLE THE  COCHETOPA 

PASS LEROUX’S  ACCOUNT  OF  FREMONT’S  BLUNDER THE  OLD  UTE  INDIAN 

WHO  KNEW  WILLIAMS HIS  DESCRIPTION  OF  “OLD  BILL” A RUNNING 

FIGHT A SIX  DAY’S  RETREAT NO  SURRENDER THE  DEATH  WOUND 

A SAD  FATE THE  FAITHFUL  STEED THE  DOUBLE  BURIAL. 


There  were,  amongst  the  trappers,  men  whose  characters  were  more 
worthy  of  admiration,  but  none  whose  career  was  more  daring,  or 
whose  lonely  life  and  sad  death,  excites  a more  mournful  interest, 
than  those  of  this  man.  He  was  a native  of  Tennessee,  his  father 
being  one  of  the  pioneer  Virginians,  who  settled  that  State,  while  it 
still  swarmed  with  murderous  savages.  “Old  Bill,”  before  going 
to  the  mountains,  had  had  a long  experience  as  a scout  in  the  Ohio 
campaigns  against  the  Indian  tribes  of  that  State.  His  name  had, 
amongst  his  comrades,  the  invariable  prefix  of  “old,”  though  he 
could  not  have  had  much  the  advantage  of  themselves  in  point  of 
years. 

He  was  not  so  great  a favorite  amongst  his  comrades  as  Eddie, 
Gordon  and  some  of  the  others,  but  none  of  them  wished  a better 
comrade  for  a dangerous  mission  than  “Old  Bill.”  As  before 
stated,  his  scouting  habits  had  clung  to  him,  and  while  trapping,  he 
was  often  absent  for  days  and  weeks  at  a time,  on  lonely  expedi- 
tions, as  often  returning  with  scalps,  as  with  peltries. 

Williams  had  the  scout’s  undying  hatred  for  an  Indian,  and  would 
at  any  time  neglect  his  trapping  to  get  a shot  at  a redskin.  If  he 
had  any  tinge  of  religion  in  his  composition,  his  comrades  never 
found  it  out,  unless  indeed  he  worshipped  a fetich  of  revenge,  and 
made  a creed  of  slaughter  to  suit  his  own  ideas  of  what  was  right. 

448 


‘‘OLD  BILL”  WILLIAMS. 


440 


He  execrated  Rose,  the  white  Chief  of  the  Crows,  and  said,  that  he 
never  could  see  how  a white  man  could  remain,  by  preference, 
amongst  the  Indians. 

It  was  reported,  and  universally  believed  amongst  the  trappers, 


that  Rose  was  one  of  John  A.  Murrell’s  land  pirates,  who  infested 
the  Mississippi  from  the  Kaskaskia  to  New  Orleans,  and  who  formed 
a league,  that  embraced  men  in  all  classes  of  society.  The  tavern 
keeper  was  often  the  spy  of  this  noted  bandit;  the  justice,  one  of 


450 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


his  accomplices.  The  honest  seeming  hostler,  who  brought  your 
horses  from  the  stables  of  your  tavern,  might,  by  a near  cut,  inter- 
cept you  in  the  road  and  demand,  not  “your  money  or  your  life,” 
but  a surrender,  that  was  sure  to  end  in  death ; for  these  men 
believed  in  the  adage,  that  “dead  men  tell  no  tales.”  The  rifled 
corpses  were  then  buried,  the  stolen  horses  disguised  in  various 
ways,  run  off  and  sold,  and  detection  baffled. 

When  this  was  told  to  Williams,  he  swore  that  he  would  prefer 
Rose  as  a land  pirate,  to  Rose  as  the  comrade  of  thieving,  lying, 
skulking  Indians,  without  either  honor,  honesty  or  courage — which 
last,  at  least,  he  thought  the  land  pirates  must  have  had.  While 
upon  this  subject,  we  will  give  a brief  statement  of  the  death  of  this 
wretched  renegade.  No  account  has  ever  appeared  of  the  death  of 
this  mysterious  man,  but  the  following  information  was  given  to 
the  writer  by  old  Jo  Jewett,  who  lived  amongst  the  Sioux  for  fifty 
years,  and  who  knew  every  trapper,  trader,  renegade  and  squaw- 
man,  who  was  ever  upon  the  plains  or  in  the  mountains. 

The  Crows  and  Blackfeet  were  perpetually  at  war,  and  the  acqui- 
sition of  such  an  ally  as  the  desperate  outlaw,  was  most  fortunate 
for  the  Crows,  who  were  naturally  more  cowardly  than  their  war- 
like enemies. 

Rose  taught  them  that  when  numbers  were  nearly  equal,  it  was 
determined  bravery  and  endurance  that  won,  and  he  showed  them 
that  it  was  not  the  superior  strength  of  the  white  man  that  caused 
his  success,  but  the  fact  that  he  could  not  be  daunted  by  superior 
numbers,  nor  the  most  terrible  dangers.  For  some  time  his  example 
and  advice  caused  them  to  overcome  the  Blackfeet,  but  at  last,  giv- 
ing way  to  a panic,  in  one  of  their  combats,  where  they  were  slightly 
outnumbered,  a great  many  of  them  were  slain. 

Had  it  not  been  for  Rose — who  was  as  brave  as  a lion — not  a one 
of  the  cowardly  Crows  would  have  escaped ; but  rallying  three  of  the 
bravest  of  the  sub-chiefs,  he  had  them  to  load  their  rifles  as  fast  as 
possible,  and  dropping  back  toward  the  enemy,  he  kept  between 
the  others  and  danger,  always  with  a loaded  rifle  in  his  hands. 
When  this  was  discharged,  he  would  run  to  one  of  the  chiefs  and 
get  a rifle  and  then  face  his  enemies,  the  others  again  falling  back. 

In  this  way,  by  forming  a rear  guard  of  a single  man,  a massacre 
of  his  followers  was  prevented.  When  he  reached  the  village,  how- 
ever, instead  of  the  ovation  he  had  a right  to  expect,  he  met  only 


“OLD  BILL"  WILLIAMS, 


451 


frowns  and  averted  eyes.  The  next  day  the  medicine  man  of  the 
village,  togged  out  in  all  of  his  gaudy  paraphernalia,  approached 
him,  and  touching  him  with  his  decorated  pipe,  commanded  him  to 
appear,  unarmed,  at  the  council  lodge  that  evening,  to  answer  to  a 
charge  of  conspiracy  against  the  Great  Crow  Nation,  and  of  witch- 
craft against  the  medicine  of  the  Great  Spirit. 


LITTLE  RAVEN— THE  CROW  MEDICINE  MAN. 


To  such  an  accusation  as  this,  Rose  knew  that  there  could  be  but 
one  outcome,  as  the  charge  of  witchcraft  is  always  fixed  on  those 
whom  the  Indians  intend  to  put  out  of  the  way  at  all  hazards.  As 
amongst  the  Puritans  of  Massachusetts,  the  ordeal  is  one  impossible 
to  pass,  and  to  be  accused  is  to  be  condemned.  Rose  saw  that,  at 
last,  his  evil  genius  had  overtaken  him,  but  he  determined  to  die 
like  a brave  man. 


452 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Secreting  a tomahawk  and  scalping  knife  upon  his  person,  he 
appeared  at  the  appointed  time,  near  the  council  tent,  and  met 
Little  Raven,  the  medicineman,  who,  raising  his  left  hand  to  heaven, 
while  his  right  grasped  the  sacred  pipe,  invoked  the  Great  Spirit 
and  the  sun  to  attest  the  justice  of  the  accusation  against  the  white 
man. 

All  of  the  warriors  had  assembled  within  the  tent,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  three  braves,  who  had  assisted  Rose  in  the  late  retreat,  and 
who  now  stood  dejectedly  near  the  lodge,  within  which  the  monoto- 
nous drumming  of  the  tom-tom  could  be  heard.  They  had  used 
their  influence  to  save  Rose,  but  had  been  unsuccessful,  and  were 
now  waiting  to  bid  him  adieu.  This  was  done  with  the  solemn  dig- 
nity,  which  the  Indians  preserve  on  all  great  occasions,  and  after  a 
low  “good  bye,  brother,”  from  each,  they  saw  him  pass  into  the 
lodge  to  his  doom,  and  then,  retiring  to  their  tepees,  they  sat  down, 
covered  their  heads  with  their  blankets,  and  remained  motionless 
until  the  horrible  yells  of  the  Indians,  the  loud  answering  whoop  of 
the  white  man,  and  the  significant  silence  which  followed,  told 
them  that  the  tragedy  had  been  enacted. 

Within  the  tent,  when  Rose  entered,  he  found  everything  prepared 
for  his  trial,  and  one  glance  around  the  circle,  at  the  faces  of  his 
judges,  told  him  that  he  had  nothing  to  hope  for.  Had  he  been  an 
Indian,  he  would  now  have  sat  down,  covered  his  head  with  his 
blanket  and  awaited  the  fatal  stroke,  but  being  a whiteman,  without 
the  slightest  respect  for  Indian  customs,  laws  or  traditions,  he 
merely  moved  as  closely  as  possible  to  Lone  Pine,  a jealous  chief, 
whom  he  knew  to  be  the  main  instrument  in  this  persecution. 

When  within  striking  distance  of  this  savage  he  offered  him  his 
hand,  which  was  disdainfully  refused  by  the  Indian,  who  drew  him- 
self up,  with  folded  arms,  and  glared  upon  the  white  man.  This  was 
what  Rose  expected,  and  throwing  aside  his  blanket,  he  grasped  his 
tomahawk  in  his  right  hand  and  his  knife  in  his  left,  and  cutting  down 
Lone  Pine  at  a single  furious  blow,  he  ran  amuck  around  the  crowded 
lodge,  striking  and  cutting  right  and  left.  Those  of  the  Indians, 
who  were  armed,  fell  upon  him  and  he  finally  sank  to  the  ground, 
bleeding  from  fifty  wounds.  The  white  chief  was  dead,  but  the 

savages  had  to  mourn  the  loss  of  three  of  their  bravest  warriors 
© 

killed,  two  fatally  and  a half  dozen  seriously  wounded. 


KILLING  OF  ROSE,  THE  RENEGADE. 


“OLD  BILL”  WILLIAMS i 


453 


454 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


When  Williams,  paddling  down  the  Columbia  astride  of  a log, 
had  rejoined  his  comrades,  he  gave  them  the  sequel  to  the  joint 
adventure,  that  had  befallen  himself  and  Gordon,  a few  days  before. 
In  a few  minutes  after  leaving  his  companion,  he  had  struck  the  trail 
of  a bear,  and  was  following  it,  with  his  head  down,  and  as  rapidly 
as  possible,  when  he  ran  full  tilt  into  the  large  body  of  savages,  vTho 
were  coming  out  of  a small  canon. 

The  Indians  were  fully  as  much  surprised  as  he  was,  and  being 
first  to  recover  himself,  he  raised  his  rifle,  and  fired,  killing  a big, 
fine-looking  savage,  whom  he  supposed  to  be  a chief.  He  then 
darted  off  up  a small  canon  leading  to  the  right,  and  vTas  pleased 
to  find  that  only  four  of  the  warriors  had  been  detached  in  pursuit 
of  him. 

Making  as  good  time  as  the  nature  of  the  ground  w^ould  permit, 
he  soon  distanced  his  pursuers  so  far  that  he  felt  it  safe  to  stop  and 
load  his  rifle.  Hardly  had  he  finished  doing  this,  when  the  savages 
came  in  sight.  Having  hid  behind  a large  tree,  they  incautiously  came 
so  close,  that  he  got  a shot  at  one  of  them  and  he  fell  dead,  shot 
through  the  heart.  Again  Williams  turned  in  flight,  and  once  more 
his  pursuers  began  to  fall  behind,  when  he  stopped  as  before  to 
load  his  gun. 

This  time  the  Indians  were  more  cautious  and  they  spread  out  on 
each  side  of  the  canon,  so  that  they  could  get  a sight  of  the  trapper, 
before  running  themselves  into  danger.  When  he  found  himself  dis- 
covered,  Williams  determined  to  adopt  the  grizzly  bear’s  stratagem 
of  “back-tracking,”  in  order  to  get  another  shot  at  the  Blackfeet. 
As  soon  as  he  had  got  out  of  sight  of  them,  he  put  on  an  extra  burst 
of  speed,  and  ran  furiously  for  half  a mile,  and  then  doubled  back 
for  about  two  hundreds  yard  to  where,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
canon,  he  had  noticed  a suitable  spot  to  put  his  plan  into  execution. 

The  Blackfeet,  confident  that  they  were  hot  upon  “Old  Bill’s” 
tracks,  did  not  take  the  same  precautions  as  before,  and  as  the  last 
one  was  passing  his  hiding  place,  he  dashed  swiftly  out,  shot  him, 
and  seizing  his  gun,  mortally  wounded  another.  The  remaining 
savage,  fearful  of  sharing  the  fate  of  his  comrades,  dashed  up  the 
canon  in  terror,  and  escaped. 

Williams  now  scalped  the  dead  Indians  and  secured  their  ammuni- 
tion, and  then,  having  rendered  their  rifles  useless,  he  took  a long 
rest.  Fearing  that  the  flying  savage  might  bring  back  a large  force, 


455 


“OLD  BILL**  WILLIAMS. 

and  hoping  to  throw  them  off  of  his  trail , he  entered  the  stream  and 
waded  in  it  for  some  distance,  emerg-ino;  from  it  about  half  a mile 
above  the  point  at  which  he  entered.  He  again  continued  up  the 
canon  a few  hundred  yards  and  again  entered  the  stream,  this  time 
turning  down  the  current.  When  near  the  mouth  of  the  canon,  he 
heard  voices,  and  saw  a number  of  the  Indians  coming  up  the  trail; 
as  he  supposed,  to  find  out  what  had  become  of  his  pursuers. 

He  secreted  himself  until  they  had  passed  out  of  sight,  and  then 
left  that  canon  and  hid  himself  in  the  other,  rightly  surmising  that 
the  Indians  would  not  think  of  searching  for  him  there.  Shortly 
after  he  had  got  himself  stowed  away,  he  heard  the  howling  of  the  sav- 
ages, as  they  came  to  one  after  another  of  their  dead,  and  later  on,  he 
heard  them  returning  and  going  down  the  river.  For  two  days  he 
had  lain  concealed  in  the  canon,  with  nothing  to  eat  but  a tough 
piece  of  dried  buffalo.  During  the  day  he  suffered  terribly  with 
thirst,  but  at  night  he  ventured  down  to  the  stream  for  water.  On 
the  third  day  he  climed  to  the  top  of  a high  crag  and  saw  the  Indians 
depart.  He  then  came  down  to  the  river,  and  fearing  he  might 
encounter  other  roving  bands,  straddled  a log  and  rode  on  down,  as 
already  described. 

Upon  the  return  of  Eddie  and  others  to  St.  Louis,  in  1829,  Wil- 
liams became  more  of  a “solitary”  than  ever.  This  is  a name 
given  to  the  old  bulls  of  the  buffalo  herds,  which  become  surly  and 
ferocious,  and  are  driven  out  by  the  younger  males.  While  “Old 
Bill’s”  temper  was  not  sour,  yet  he  preferred  solitude,  and  toward 
the  close  of  his  life,  pursued  all  of  his  hunting  and  trapping  expedi- 
tions alone.  When  his  comrades  first  left,  he  and  a Frenchman  from 
Santa  Fe,  named  Provost,  made  excursions  together,  but  “Old  Bill” 
finally  learned  that  Provost  was  a “squaw  man,”  and  told  him  he 
wanted  nothing  more  to  do  with  him. 

But  few  of  the  trappers  possessed  this  inveterate  hatred  of  the 
Indians,  but  at  any  time  “Old  Bill”  was  ready  to  enact  the  part  of 
the  wolf  in  the  fable,  who  accused  the  lamb  of  muddying  the  water 
which  he  had  to  drink,  although  the  lamb  was  a considerable  distance 
down  the  stream.  It  is  rather  a stretch  of  the  possible,  to  assert 
that  there  is  anything  lamb-like  about  the  American  Indian,  but  for 
the  purpose  of  illustration,  we  will  suppose  this  bureau  pet,  the 
lamb,  and  the  white  trapper,  the  wolf,  of  our  iEsopian  eastern 
brethren. 


45 ()  CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

After  he  had  driven  off  Provost,  Williams  acted  often  as  a guide 
for  the  government  and  for  private  parties.  It  is  said  that  Fremont 
pretended  that  it  was  through  the  ignorance  of  Williams  that  he 
missed  his  way  and  failed  to  find  the  Cochetopa  Pass.  This  can 
hardly  be  true,  for  “Old  Bill”  had  been  over  this  pass  and  into  the 
great  San  Louis  Valley  with  Antoine,  Leroux  and  others.  Leroux 
attributed  Fremont’s  failure  to  his  pigheadedness  in  not  being  will- 
ing to  listen  to  advice. 


AN  INDIAN  LAMB  AND  A WHITE  WOLF-A  FABLE  OF  THE  EASTERN  SENTIMENTALISTS. 

He  says,  that  from  the  point  Fremont  selected,  he  could  have 
seen  the  Cochetopa  Pass,  but  for  a lap  in  the  mountain  ranges.  It 
is  a wonder  to  anyone,  who  has  ever  been  in  the  valley,  or  on  the 
creek  called  Saguache,  how  Fremont  could  ever  have  mistaken  his 
way,  for  the  route  is  not  only  natural  and  easy,  but  the  Ute  trails  to 
the  valley,  in  which  the  old  Los  Pinos  agency  was  situated,  were 
perfectly  plain  at  that  time.  Having  hunted  and  prospected  in  all 


457 


uOLD  BILL”  WILLIAMS. 

of  these  ranges,  I must  say  that  it  is  a puzzle  to  me  how  he  could 
have  ever  blundered  out  of  his  way,  in  crossing  from  the  Saguache 
to  the  Cochetopa  and  the  waters  of  the  Gunnison,  or  vice  versa. 

Of  Williams’  further  exploits  but  little  is  known.  He  belonged 
to  no  company,  being  one  of  those  trappers  known  as  “free  trap- 
pers,” following  the  bent  of  their  own  inclinations,  trapping  in 
what  streams  they  liked,  and  hunting  oyer  what  grounds  best  suited 
them.  An  old  Ute,  in  whose  country  I was  prospecting  four  years 
ago,  told  me  that  he  knew  “Old  Bill”  Williams,  or,  as  they  called 
him,  the  Lone  Elk,  and  showed  me  where  he  had  wintered  one  sea- 
son on  the  East  Fork  of  the  Gunnison  Liver. 

“He  was  a great  hunter,”  said  the  old  Indian,  “a  great  trapper — 
took  many  beaver,  and  a great  warrior — his  belt  was  full  of  scalps ; 
but  no  friend;  no  squaw;  always  by  himself”  (here  he  separated 
his  thumb  as  far  as  possible  from  his  fingers,  to  express  his  loneli- 
ness) “like  the  eagle  in  the  heavens,  or  the  panther  on  the  moun- 
tain.” He  was  not  a talkative  man  and  those  with  whom  he 
mingled,  judged  of  his  deeds  only  by  his  new  scars  and  the  fresh 
scalps  at  his  girdle. 

Old  and  gray,  marked  with  the  scars  of  a hundred  hand-to-hand 
combats,  and  skirmishes  innumerable,  “Old  Bill”  at  last  met  his 
fate  at  the  hands  of  his  most  hated  foes.  Flying  single  handed  and 
alone  from  the  swarming  Blackfeet,  who  had  driven  him  from  the 
headwaters  of  the  Missouri,  he  fought  like  the  retreating  lion,  ever 
and  anon  making  a stand  and  dealing  death  to  his  pursuers.  For 
six  days  and  nights  they  trailed  him,  often  by  the  blood  that  poured 
from  his  many  wounds,  and  at  last,  almost  within  reach  of  a trap- 
per’s camp,  on  the  Yellowstone,  the  cowardly  jackals  dealt  the  brave, 
old  lion  his  death  blow. 

Still  he  would  not  give  up,  and  swearing  that  his  scalp  should 
never  dry  in  the  smoke  of  a Blackfoot  lodge,  he  once  more  fought 
them  oft  and  turned  in  flight.  The  savages,  despairing  of  ever  cap- 
turing this  man,  who  defied  fatigue  and  wounds,  turned  back,  and 
Williams  rode  on  into  the  night  and  the  gathering  storm.  Weeks 
afterward  some  of  the  trappers  from  the  camp  on  the  river,  when 
out  on  a hunt,  saw  a horse  gazing  attentively  at  something  under  a 
shelving  ledge  of  rock,  and  going  to  the  point,  began  to  dig  away 
the  drifted  snow. 


458 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


The  horse  they  had  recognized  as  the  Flathead  steed  of  “Old  Bill” 
Williams,  and  when  the  snow  was  removed,  they  saw  the  grizzled 
head  of  the  lonely,  old  trapper  bent  forward  on  his  breast,  while 
his  clothing  was  stained  with  the  blood  of  a dozen  wounds,  through 
which  his  life  had  ebbed  away.  With  a tenderness  almost  human, 
his  faithful  steed  had  refused  to  leave  his  dead  master,  and  the  bark 
gnawed  from  the  neighboring  cottonwoods,  as  well  as  his  own  wasted 
frame,  attested  the  terrible  straits  to  which  he  had  been  reduced. 

All  attempts  to  remove  him  from  his  melancholy  guard  proved 
Ineffectual,  and  when  they  had  hollowed  out  a grave  for  his  master, 
the  trappers  shot  the  noble  animal  and  buried  the  two  together, 
raising  above  them  a huge  pile  of  stones,  to  prevent  the  wolves  from 
digging  into  and  desecrating  the  grave.  * 


CHAPTER  XY. 


JIM  BRIDGER. 


BORN  IN  ILLINOIS A POOR  FAMILY HARD  KNOCKS MISERABLE  DEATH 

OF  HIS  BROTHER  IN  ST.  LOUIS SEEKS  THE  WILDERNESS A BRAVE 

BORDERER ADVENTURE  WITH  THE  BLACKFEET  A CAPTIVE  

RELEASED A LOVE  AFFAIR HIS  BLACKFOOT  BRIDE WITH  MILTON 

SUBLETTE WOUNDED  BY  AN  ARROW RETURNS  TO  ST.  LOUIS  FOR  SUR- 
GICAL AID JIM  BECKWITH A LURID  LIAR SOME  OF  HIS  ANEC- 
DOTES  A LAUGHABLE  COMBAT DOG  EAT  DOG THE  FLIGHT  FOR 

CAMP RUNNING  AROUND  A MOUNTAIN VARICOSE  VEINS A HUN- 
DRED SCALPS BRIDGER’S  BATTLE  ON  THE  PLAINS IN  SEARCH  OF 

SUCCOR THE  NIGHT  COMBAT THE  TRAPPER’S  CAMP THE  RESCUE 

ROUTED  REDSKINS BUILDS  FORT  BRIDGER A NOTED  STOPPING 

PLACE BEAUVAIS  AND  MONTEAU A MODEST  HERO DEATH  OF 

BRIDGER. 


The  name  of  Bridger  is  familiar  to  all  who  have  ever  crossed  the 
plains,  especially  to  those  who  made  that  trip  before  the  advent  of 
the  railroads;  Fort  Bridger  being  a noted  resting-place  for  all  of  the 
traders,  pilgrims  and  trappers.  Bridger  came  of  an  Illinois  family, 
which,  if  reports  of  that  day  are  to  be  believed,  wTas  far  from 
respectable,  though  they  could  lay  full  claim  to  the  first  characteristic 
with  which  the  genealogical  epitaphist,  as  well  as  the  novelist, 
endows  his  heroes — they  were  very  poor. 

Used  to  rough  knocks  and  plenty  of  them,  at  home,  the  life  of 
the  mountain  trapper,  when  he  was  old  enough  to  embrace  it,  pre- 
sented no  peculiar  hardships  to  this  man,  upon  whose  birth  and  cir- 
cumstances fortune  had  so  far  only  frowned,  and  he  was  early  in 
the  field  of  adventure,  upon  the  waters  of  the  great  continental 
divide,  the  backbone  of  a hemisphere. 

Death  in  an  Indian  combat  presented  no  greater  horror  than  such 
a death  as  his  brother’s  in  St.  Louis,  who  perished  in  a drunken 
brawl,  in  the  brothel  of  malodorous  notoriety,  kept  at  an  early  day 
in  the  city,  by  the  infamous  individual  known  as  “Captain  Jack.” 
Cutting  loose  from  all  family  ties,  Jim  sought  the  wilderness;  cer- 
tainly not  a bad  move,  when  we  consider  the  character  of  his  rela- 
tives. On  the  border,  Bridger  soon  made  his  mark,  being  a man  of 

459 


460 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


great  strength  and  activity  and  fully  equal  to  any  of  his  comrades 
as  a rifle  shot. 

In  the  numerous  skirmishes  of  the  trappers,  Bridger  could  be 
depended  upon  to  go  as  far  as  any  of  his  companions  into  danger, 
remain  as  long,  and  retreat  as  slowly.  The  burly  borderer  knew  no 
fear,  and  always  fought  with  a recklessness  that  suggests  the  idea 
that  he  was  thus  endeavoring  to  expiate  some  sin,  or  efface  some 
stain  from  his  name.  Not  that  he,  himself,  had  ever  broken  faith, 


HOME  OF  THE  BRIDGERS  IN  ILLINOIS. 


or  deserted  comrade — he  was  as  true  as  steel,  but  the  evil  fame  of 
his  brother  seemed  constantly  present  to  him,  and  he  fought  to 
banish  it. 

During  a truce  with  the  Blackfeet,  who  were  camped  within  a few 
miles  of  the  block-house,  which  the  trappers  had  constructed, 
Bridger  found  it  necessary  to  chastise  the  insolence  of  two  of  the 
savages,  who,  finding  him  alone  in  their  village,  proceeded  to  abuse 
him  roundly.  For  a few  minutes  Bridger  bore  with  them,  but  at 


JIM  BRIDGER. 


461 


last,  becoming  infuriated  at  their  unbearable  insults,  he  pitched  into 
the  two  in  a regular  rough-and-tumble  style,  and  battered  them  up 
terribly.  Selecting  a number  of  their  friends,  they  surrounded  the 
trapper  unawares,  and  made  him  a prisoner. 

He  was  now  bound,  and  conveyed  to  a lodge  on  the  outskirts  of 
the  village,  and  left  there,  while  a consultation  was  being  held  to 
decide  his  fate.  Night  came,  and  still  the  discussion  went  on. 
Some  argued  that  Bridger’ s'  offence  deserved  death,  and  that  he 
should  be  carried  to  the  mountains  and  tortured;  while  others  were 
for  more  pacific  measures,  and  showed  what  advantages  would  accrue 
to  them  from  a continuation  of  their  friendly  relations  with  the 
trappers. 

At  last  the  faction  for  revenge  triumphed,  and  a guard  was  sent 
to  the  lodge  to  bring  the  captive  to  the  council,  that  he  might  hear 
his  fate.  Arriving  at  the  impromptu  prison,  the  guards  stalked  in, 
but  were  surprised  to  find  that  it  was  deserted.  The  bird  had  flown. 
A hurried  alarm  was  given,  but  Bridger  reached  his  camp  in  safety, 
and  the  Blackfeet,  fearing  the  vengeance  of  the  trappers,  for  their 
breach  of  faith,  made  their  travais,  packed  up  their  goods  and  fled. 

It  was  afterward  told,  that  Bridger’ s visit  to  the  village  had  been 
made  for  the  sake  of  a bright-eyed  and  handsome  young  squaw,  who 
had  returned,  with  interest,  the  sudden  affection  of  the  young,  white 
trapper.  When  he  was  taken  a captive  to  the  lodge,  she  at  first 
determined  to  hasten  to  the  block-house  and  notify  his  comrades, 
so  that  they  might  demand  his  release,  but  fearing  an  attack,  in 
which  some  of  her  relatives  would  be  killed,  and  during  which  her 
lover  would  certainly  be  assassinated,  she  chose  the  wiser  course  of 
endeavoring  to  effect  his  release  herself. 

This  she  felt  would  be  an  easy  matter,  when  she  found  that,  owing 
to  a division  of  counsels,  the  discussion  would  be  prolonged  until 
late  in  the  night.  Making  her  way  as  noiselessly  as  possible  toward 
the  lodge,  she  discovered  a sentinel  posted  before  its  door.  Crouch- 
ing almost  to  the  earth,  she  crept  away,  and  from  another  quarter 
crawled  to  the  back  of  the  tent,  where,  after  satisfying  herself  that 
she  had  not  been  seen  or  heard  by  the  warrior  on  guard,  she  cut  a 
long  slit  in  the  buffalo-skin  curtain,  and  entered  the  lodge.  Here 
she  found  Bridger  tugging  away  at  his  bonds,  and  placing  her  hand 
over  his  mouth,  to  prevent  an  exclamation,  she  cut  the  raw-hide 
thongs,  and  motioned  him  to  follow  her. 


462 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


Slowly  and  silently  they  emerged  from  the  tent,  and  stole  away 
from  the  village,  and  here,  after  some  counsel  as  to  which  was  his 
best  way  to  avoid  the  sentinels,  and  the  pursuit  that  would  soon  be 
made,  she  left  him.  Before  parting,  however,  she  agreed  that, 
whether  there  was  peace  or  war  between  her  people  and  his,  she 
would  meet  him  in  a certain  grove  of  pinons,  at  the  base  of  a distant 
peak,  which  he  pointed  out. 

“After  one  hundred  moons  I will  meet  you  there,”  she  said;  and 
holding  her  to  his  breast  a moment,  the  trapper  tore  himself  away, 


BRIDGER  AND  THE  BLACKFOOT  MAIDEN. 


and  vanished  down  the  steep  cliffs.  When  out  of  sight,  the  Black- 
foot  maiden  strolled  leisurely  back  into  the  village,  and  was  soon 
slumbering  in  her  paternal  lodge.  The  sequel  to  this  little  romance 
was  Bridger’s  marriage,  after  the  Indian  fashion,  with  the  young 
squaw,  who  was  afterwards  able  to  render  many  favors  and  benefits 
to  the  white  men. 

As  the  fall  drew  on,  his  brother-trappers  noticed  that  Bridger  was 
looking  ahead  to  some  important  event  and  keeping  a notch-stick 
with  unusual  assiduity,  and  at  last,  when  this  was  pretty  nearly  filled 


JIM  BEIDGEE. 


463 


with  the  triangular  marks,  Bridger  saddled  up  his  horse,  and  leading 
another,  set  out  toward  the  mountains,  bearing  for  a certain  tower- 
ing peak,  that  loomed  up  above  its  fellows,  like  Saul  amongst  his 
brother  Israelites.  On  the  fifth  day  after  starting  out,  Bridger 
came  into  camp,  followed  by  his  Blackfoot  bride,  his  horses  having 
evidently  seen  quite  a hard  time,  but  the  young  couple  looking 
radiant  and  happy. 

Bridger  was  in  the  battle  with  the  Blackfeet,  in  which  Milton  Sub- 
lette received  the  wound  requiring  amputation  of  his  leg,  at  the 
ankle.  Bridger  had  many  narrow  escapes,  and  was  several  times 
slightly  wounded  on  this  retreat.  In  the  same  volley,  which  broke 
Sublette’s  ankle,  came  an  arrow,  that  buried  itself  so  deeply  in 
Bridger’ s thigh,  that  it  defied  all  of  the  rude  surgery  of  the  trappers 
to  extract  it.  The  wound  grew  worse  continually,  and  for  fear  that 
the  arrow  head,  which  was  working  deeper  and  deeper  into  his 
thigh,  might  eventually  cut  the  femoral  artery,  and  bleed  him  to 
death,  he  was  sent  to  St.  Louis,  along  with  Sublette,  where  he  had 
the  arrow  extracted. 

I have  often  heard  old  Jim  Beckwith  talk  by  the  hour  of  the 
exploits  of  Bridger,  whom  he  greatly  admired.  Years  ago  Jim 
Beckwith  published  an  alleged  biography  of  himself,  in  which  he 
claimed  to  have  been  head  chief  of  the  Crow  nation  for  thirty  years. 
The  adventures  recorded  m it  are  romantic,  lurid  and  startling,  and 
taking  it  altogether,  it  is  as  vivid  a piece  of  lying  as  any  of  the 
blood-and-thunder  novelists  of  to-day  ever  produced.  On  that 
account  I have  hesitated  to  record  his  narrative  of  the  adventures  of 
Jim  Bridger,  in  which  he  always  credited  himself  with  rather  the 
lion’s  share  of  the  fighting  and  generalship. 

Amongst  others  was  an  account  of  a trip,  when  he  and  Bridger 
were  piloting  a small  outfit  across  the  plains.  They  had  one  day 
reached  the  grounds  over  which  both  the  Sioux  and  Pawnees  roamed 
and  hunted,  and  in  the  morning  he  and  Bridger  had  beat  off  a force 
of  some  fifty  Pawnees,  and  afterward  continued  their  journey  along 
the  Republican  River  for  some  hours,  without  molestation. 

Late  that  afternoon,  however,  they  had  run  into  a band  of  about 
fifty  Sioux.  Although  they  succeeded  in  defeating  this  band  also, 
yet  he  now  saw  that  they  were  in  for  trouble.  “I  seen,”  said  he, 
“that  the  Pawnees  would  get  together  a big  lot  of  their  warriors  and 
follow  after  us,  and  the  d — d Sioux,  I knowed,  would  do  the  same 


464 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


thing,  so  I soon  saw  that  we'd  have  about  a thousand  Injuns  after 
us,  and  we  would’nt  be  a taste  for  ’em.  I seen  this  wouldn’t  do,  so 
I says  to  Jim  Bridger,  says  I,  ‘Jim,  what  we  goin  ter  do?  ” “Dam- 
fino,”  said  Jim,  says  he,  “fight  till  the  reds  down  us,  I reckon,  and 
then  go  under  like  men.”  All  this  time,  bless  your  soul,  them 

pilgrims  what  we  was  guidin’,  they  was  in  the  wagons  cryin’,  d 

me,  if  they  wasn’t ! 

“Well,  sir,  I jest  made  up  my  mind  that  I did’nt  intend  to  give 
my  har  to  no  d — d Injun  jest  then,  so  I calculates  about  whar  the 
two  parties  of  red  devils  would  meet,  and  when  we  got  thar  we  drove 
over  a raise  in  the  plain,  and  jest  waited.  It  wasn’t  more’n  two 
hours  till  I seen  the  dust  raisin’  to  the  East.  Them’s  Pawnees,  by 
G — , says  I,  and  then  I looked  to  the  West,  and  thar  the  dust  was 
a raisin’,  too.  Them’s  Sioux,  says  I,  and  be  d — d to  ’em  ! Well, 
after  waitin’  some  time,  the  Injuns  they  seen  each  other,  and  of  all 
the  d — d yelling  you  ever  heard,  it  was  thar.  I jest  laid  back  and 
laughed,  and  Bridger,  he  done  some  tall  chucklin’,  too,  when  them 
two  bands  come  together.  It  was  lively  times,  you  bet. 

“The  Injuns  did’nt  have  many  guns  them  days,  but  you  kin  jest 
rest  sure  they  used  their  arrows  for  what  was  out.  Thar  they  went 
circlin’  around  each  other,  bendin’  under  their  horses’  necks  and 
lettin’  the  arrows  fly.  At  one  time  the  air  was  filled  so  full  of 
arrows,  that  they  shut  out  the  sunlight  and  made  a cloud.  Their 
dogs  was  full  of  ’em,  their  ponies  was  full  of  ’em,  and  every 
Injun  in  the  gang  had  a lot  of  ’em  stickin’  inter  him.  I seen  one 
of  ’em,  a big,  fat  feller,  a riding  off  on  his  stomach  with  two  long 
arrows  stickin’  inter  the  seat  of  his  buckskins,  and  it  put  me  so 
much  in  mind  of  a big  Dutch  pin-cushion,  that  I like  ter  die  a 
laughin’.”  In  describing  this  unique  combat,  the  old  liar  waxed 
lurid  in  his  profanity,  and  wound  up  with  the  information,  that  lie 
“believed  them  Injuns  was  a runnin’  from  each  other  yit.” 

I once  heard  old  Jim  Beckwith  tell  a pilgrim  how  his  right  leg 
came  to  be  afflicted  with  varicose  veins.  “I  was  out  on  foot  one 
day,  about  thirty  miles  from  camp,  (the  Crow  village),  and  on  the 
other  side  of  the  mountain,  when  a hundred  Blackfeet  jumped  me. 
Well,  sir,  they  was  armed  only  with  bows  and  arrows,  (arrers,  Jim 
called  them),  and  I had  my  rifle  with  me.  I shot  down  their  chief, 
and  then  I seen  I had  to  make  a race  for  camp.  Every  d — d one  of 


JIM  BECKWITH’S  DESCRIPTION  OF  AN  INDIAN  BATTLE 


JIM  BRIDGER. 


46o 


466 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


them  Injuns  was  mounted,  and  so  I took  up  the  mountains,  but  when 
I got  half  way  up  I found  they  was  a gainin’  on  me. 

“Look  here,  Jim,”  says  I to  myself,  “this  here  won’t  never  do, 
so  I jest  thought  that  I’d  try  runnin’  around  the  hill,  as  I had  an  idea 
that  it  would  strain  their  horses  some.  It  was  a success.  As  soon 
as  I began  streakin’  it  around  the  mountain  I began  to  gain  on  ’em, 
and  I jest  kept  up  my  lick  until  I got  inter  camp.  Yer  see,  the 
mountain  jest  circled  around  to  our  village,  and  when  I got  thar,  I 
jest  mounted  a lot  of  my  warriors,  and  that  night  one  hundred  Black- 
feet  scalps  was  a dryin’  in  the  village.  Yer  see,  their  horses  was 
wore  out  a chasin’  me  around  the  mountain,  and  when  they  got 
down  inter  the  plain  to  escape,  I’ll  be  blamed  if  them  horses  hadn’t 
stretched  all  of  their  legs  on  the  right  side  so  that  they  could’ nt  run 
at  all  on  level  ground,  and  we  jest  picked  ’em  all  up.  But  I tell 
yer  what  it  is,  stretchin’  this  here  leg  of  mine  in  that  thirty-mile 
race  strained  it  so  I’ve  had  them  big  veins  ever  since.” 

When  Jackson,  Sublette  and  Smith  bought  out  Ashley’s  company, 
Bridger  was  one  of  the  partners  in  the  new  firm,  and  like  the  others 
continued  trapping,  hunting  and  managing  their  men,  and  in  this 
way  contributed  greatly  to  the  success  of  the  business.  His  exploits 
duringthis  period  were  many  and  wonderful.  At  one  time,  entrenched 
on  an  open  plain  on  the  Platte  River,  he  and  five  comrades  fought 
off  a large  war  party  of  the  Sioux,  every  one  of  the  trappers  being 
wounded,  but  none  killed. 

Of  the  savages  twenty -five  were  killed,  and  a large  number  wound* 
ed.  Toward  the  close  of  this  fight,  which  lasted  for  two  days  and 
nights,  it  became  necessary  for  some  one  to  endeavor  to  get  through 
the  surrounding  lines  and  bring  up  aid,  and  as  it  was  a duty  requir  - 
ing not  only  daring,  but  coolness  and  judgment,  Bridger  was 
selected.  Starting  out  about  twelve  o’clock  at  night,  he  crawled 
along  for  over  two  hundred  yards  before  encountering  any  diffi- 
culty, but  here  he  came  upon  a warrior,  who  had  been  lying  down 
beside  his  horse. 

Bridger’s  course  had  been  perfectly  noiseless,  but  the  horse,  which 
had  been  feeding  in  a deep  ravine,  scented  his  approach  and  gave  a 
snort,  that  aroused  his  master.  Seeing  that  he  was  discovered,  Bridger 
now  arose  and  rushed  on  the  Indian,  intending  to  strangle  him,  so  as 
to  prevent  an  alarm,  but  before  he  could  reach  the  brave,  his  shrill 


JTM  BRIDGET?. 


467 


whoop  had  been  given.  Now  that  nothing  was  to  be  gained  by  fur- 
ther silence  on  his  part,  and  hearing  the  rush  of  the  Indian  horses, 
Bridger  drew  his  pistol,  and  with  its  muzzle  almost  against  his 
enemy,  fired. 

The  Sioux  fell  dead,  and  Bridger  mounting  in  haste,  dashed  off 
toward  a camp  of  his  comrades,  lower  down  the  river.  It  was  a close 
chase,  the  savages  pouring  along  in  his  rear,  but  Bridger’ s chance 
choice  of  a steed  proved  a good  one,  and  by  two  o’clock  he  had 
reached  his  destination.  The  trappers  were  aroused,  and  in  a few 
minutes  were  in  the  saddle.  Making  a detour  to  gain  the  sand-hills 
in  the  rear  of  the  besiegers  they  waited  until  morning  and  as  the 
attack  on  the  little  fortification  began,  they  poured  a deadly  volley 
into  the  thickly  clustering  savages..  This  was  enough  to  dispirit  the 
Sioux,  who,  gathering  up  their  dead  and  wounded,  made  all  haste  to 
get  out  of  range.  So  frightened  were  they,  that  they  did  not  even 
take  time  to  drive  off  the  Flathead  horses  of  the  trappers. 

After  the  closing  of  the  fur  trade  along  the  Missouri,  Bridger 
built  the  trading  post  and  fort  named,  after  him,  Fort  Bridger.  Here 
he  enjoyed  a prosperous  trade,  and  accumulated  a large  amount  of 
property.  This  place  became  greatly  noted  as  a halting  place  for 
Salt  Lake  and  California  trains,  and  also  for  the  pilgrims,  who 
crossed  the  plains  to  the  distant  territories,  or  to  the  Pacific  slope. 
Bridger,  I believe,  remained  true  to  his  Blackfoot  wife ; unlike  Beau- 
vais and  others,  who  had  Sioux  and  Cheyenne  wives  and  families  on 
the  plains,  and  white  ones  in  the  States. 

Old  Joseph  Monteau,  a noted  plains  and  mountain  man,  was  like 
Bridger,  in  this  respect;  he  treated  his  Sioux  wife  as  a wife,  and  not 
as  a mistress,  and  was  as  careful  of  his  half-bred  children,  as  any 
parent  in  the  borders  of  civilization  could  be.  The  old  fellow,  after 
a long  life  of  adventure,  is  living  with  his  family  near  Ham- 
burg, Iowa,  following,  I think,  the  avocation  of  a gardener.  Simple, 
brave  and  honorable,  this  old  tiller  of  the  soil  has  been  a hero  and, 
like  Caesar,  could  boast,  if  he  would,  of  his  more  than  a hundred 
battles.  Bridger  has  been  dead  but  a few  years,  having,  like  most 
of  the  early  trappers,  lived  to  a good  old  age. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


BILL  BENT  AND  OTHERS. 


CHARLES  BENT,  GOVERNOR  OF  NEW  MEXICO HIS  MURDER FATE  OF 

WALDO,  LEE,  AND  OTHERS A FORTY  DAYS’  BATTLE  WITH  COMANCHES 

KILL  BENT  TO  THE  RESCUE THE  NOBLE  EWING  YOUNG COATES  AND 

WALDO YOUNG’S  SECOND  BATTLE KIT  CARSON’S  MAIDEN  EFFORT 

DESPERATE  ADVENTURE  OF  BILL  BENT  AND  TWO  OTHERS BEAT  OFF  A 

HUNDRED  AND  FIFTY  INDIANS LEAVE  ARIZONA BOGGS’  DANGER 

JUS  RESCUE DEATH  OF  PRATTE  AND  PAPIN THE  AMBUSH HARD 

LIGHTING ESCAPE  AND  SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  TRADERS TERRIBLE 

EXHAUSTION MURDER-  OF  MONROE  AND  M*NEICE REVENGE  OF  THEIR 

(COMRADES HOSTILITIES  BEGUN LE  GRAND’S  PARTY ATTACK  ON 

CAPTAIN  MEANS RETREAT HORRIBLE  SUFFERINGS ATTACKED  BY 

COYOTES SAVED  FROM  STARVATION THE  TIMELY  SUCCOR LEGITI- 

MATE PREY. 


William  Bent,  or,  as  he  was  generally  known  on  the  plains,  Bill 
Bent,  was  the  most  famous  of  this  family  of  men,  several  of  whom 
were  somewhat  celebrated.  Charles  Bent,  an  older  brother,  was 
also  a plainsman,  and  a noted  one,  but  never  attracted  the  attention 
that  Bill  did.  Both  of  them  had  had  innumerable  battles  with  the 
Indians,  and  in  these  conflicts  there  was  usually  the  courage  of  the 
demi-god  on  one  side,  and  overpowering  numbers  on  the  other, 
Charles,  who  was  the  eldest  of  the  brothers,  was  a man  of  some 
talent  for  statecraft,  and  of  undoubted  military  capacity.  He 
became  governor  of  New  Mexico,  and  fell,  with  other  Americans,  in 
a native  conspiracy  at  Santa  Fe. 

Amongst  those  who  perished  at  the  same  time,  were  Lawrence 
Waldo,  (father  of  Henry  L.  Waldo,  late  Chief  Justice  of  New 
Mexico),  and  Stephen  Lee,  of  St.  Louis,  a brother-in-law  of  the 
Lindells,  who  were  more  noted  for  their  money,  than  their  brains. 
Elliott  Lee,  another  brother-in-law,  and  who  had  been  in  the  Mis- 
souri State  Senate,  as  representative  of  St.  Louis,  was  rescued  by 
Father  Martinez,  the  good  priest  at  Taos. 

In  1829,  Charles  Bent,  Jacob  Coates,  William  Waldo,  and  others 
were  attacked,  while  making  their  way  towards  the  mountains 
beyond  Santa  Fe,  and  for  forty  days  the  battle  raged.  Every  day 

468 


BILL  BENT  AND  OTHERS. 


469 


the  Comanches  and  Kiowas  hung  in  a cloud  upon  the  flanks  of  the 
moving  line  of  trappers,  that,  as  steadily  as  the  resistless  march  of 
fate,  continued  on  toward  its  goal.  Every  night  they  slept  upon 
their  arms,  certain  of  a furious  assault  before  the  morning’s  dawn. 
Bill  Bent  heard  of  the  peril  of  the  small  body  of  white  men,  and 
with  the  determination  of  a hero,  he  resolved  to  add  one  more  to 
the  number. 

Mounted  on  a large  black  mule,  whose  split  ears  denoted  his 
former  Comanche  ownership,  he  started  for  the  train.  On  his  way 
he  was  attacked  and  pursued  by  about  fifty  Comanches.  Arrows 
and  bullets  whistled  past  him,  but  the  only  heed  he  paid  to  these 
was  to  wheel  in  his  saddle  and  drop  some  too  eager  buck,  whose 
Zeal  had  outstripped  his  discretion  and  brought  him  in  range  of 
Bent’s  deadly  Haw  ken  rifle. 

The  pursuit  ceased  when  Bent  had  reached  Coates  and  Waldo, 
and  he  dashed  on  into  the  line  where  his  brother  and  comrades  were 
desperately  fighting.  Coates  and  Waldo  fired  upon  Bent’s  pursu 
ers,  and  bringing  down  two  of  the  foremost,  the  others  rapidly 
retreated.  A force  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  Mexicans  joined 
this  little  party  of  fighting  Americans,  in  order  to  be  protected  by 
them.  Ewing  Young — one  of  the  bravest  and  most  generous  men, 
of  whom  the  annals  of  the  Y/est  give  any  record,  and  who,  as  a 
trapper,  hunter,  and  Indian  fighter,  had  few  equals  and  no  supe- 
riors— heard  of  the  predicament  of  his  brother  trappers.  He  had 
also  learned  that  the  mountain  canon,  to  which  they  were  journey- 
ing, and  which  it  would  be  impossible  to  avoid,  if  they  desired  to 
reach  the  mountain  streams,  had  been  occupied  by  two  thousand 
warriors,  who  lay  in  ambush,  waiting  to  entrap  and  annihilate  the 
whites.  With  forty  trappers,  he  endeavored  to  cut  his  way 
through  the  hundreds  of  savages,  who  surrounded  the  marching 
and  battling  train  of  Waldo  and  the  Bents. 

The  odds  were  too  great  even  for  valor  such  as  theirs,  and  they 
had  much  difficulty  in  cutting  their  own  way  out  from  the  swarms 
of  enveloping  Indians.  It  was  here  that  the  young  hero,  Kit  Car- 
son,  a new  recruit  of  Young’s,  first  proved  the  temper  of  his  metal, 
and  showed  himself  worthy  to  combat  alongside  of  these  veterans 
of  a hundred  battles.  Young,  after  hammering  loose  the  swarms 
of  savages,  retreated  to  Taos,  where  he  found  other  trappers  assem- 
bled, for  their  yearly  rendezvous.  With  his  numbers  increased  to 


470 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


ninety-five,  he  again  returned  to  the  attack,  and  aftei  a desperate 
engagement,  succeeded  in  reaching  the  Bents.  The  Indians,  dispir- 
ited at  their  want  of  success,  and  at  the  reinforcements  of  their 


WALDO  CHECKING  THE  INDIANS  NEAR  TAOS. 

enemies,  soon  abandoned  the  fight  and  retired,  having  lost  a large 
number  in  killed  and  wounded. 

In  the  winter  of  1830-31,  Bill  Bent.  Robert  Isaacs,  and  a com- 
rade, wnose  name  is  unknown,  made  tneir  way  into  Arizona, 


BILL  BENT  AND  OTHERS. 


471 


trapping  expedition.  For  a time  they  met  with  fair  success,  and 
were  unmolested,  but  venturing  too  far,  they  were  surrounded  by 
a body  of  Mescal ero  Apaches,  then,  as  now,  the  fiercest  of  the 
savage  tribes.  The  Indians  numbered  one  hundred  and  fifty;  the 
trappers  three,  and  their  chance  of  escape  looked  more  than  des- 
perate. 

Hope  they  had  none,  but  they  determined  to  sell  their  lives 
as  dearly  as  possible,  and  cause  what  loss  they  could  to  the  red- 
skins before  “going  under.”  When  first  surrounded,  the  trap- 
pers had  improved  their  time  by  throwing  up  a rude,  stone  breast- 
work. Hardly  had  this  been  completed,  when,  with  terrific  whoops, 
the  Apaches  came  up  on  a charge. 

Not  a shot  was  wasted;  two  fired — the  third  one  holding  his  fire 
until  the  others  had  reloaded — and  two  of  the  chiefs  fell.  Before 
they  could  get  out  of  range,  the  third  man  fired,  and  another  leader 
dropped.  Almcst  instantly  the  Apaches  returned  to  the  charge, 
but  were  met  by  the  deadly  fire  of  the  two  reloaded  rifles,  and  on  a 
closer  approach,  by  the  pistol  shots  of  the  trappers.  Again  retiring, 
the  Apaches  conducted  the  fight  thenceforth  at  a longer  range. 

The  state  of  siege  was  kept  up  for  two  days,  when  the  savages 
retired  and  the  delighted  white  men,  almost  dead  with  thirst,  sallied 
forth  in  search  of  water.  Leaving  Arizona  soon  afterward,  they 
avoided  any  further  trouble  with  these  foes,  who,  remembering  this 
drubbing,  were  glad  to  allow  them  to  retreat  unmolested. 

En  passant  we  will  remark,  that  it  was  about  this  time  that  Gen- 
eral Boggs,  afterward  Governor  of  Missouri  during  her  Mormon 
troubles,  had  a narrow  escape  in  New  Mexico.  In  a night  attack, 
the  Comanches  dashed  on  horseback  through  the  camp,  and  Boggs, 
rushing  to  the  aid  of  the  guard,  ran  in  the  dark  against  some  object 
with  such  force  as  to  precipitate  him  violently  to  the  earth.  Here 
he  lay  unconscious  and  utterly  at  the  mercy  of  the  savages,  when 
Doctor  Craig  and  Hamilton  Carson,  a brother  of  Kit,  rushed  to  his 
aid  and  rescued  him. 

Had  it  not  been  for  their  coolness  and  daring,  Boggs  would  have 
fallen  a victim  to  the  Indians.  It  was  also  during  this  eventful 
year,  that  William  Waldo  and  Antoine  Chenie  had  a desperate  com- 
bat with  a large  body  of  Comanche  and  Kiowa  Indians,  and  escaped 
almost  by  a miracle.  A few  years  before,  Captain  Pratte,  a brother 
of  General  Bernard  Pratte,  of  St.  Louis,  fell  upon  the  desert 


472  CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

shores  of  the  Gila,  and  not  many  years  after,  Alexander  Papin,  of 
another  celebrated  St.  Louis  family,  spilled  his  life  blood  upon  the 
thirsty  sands  of  the  winding  Arkansas. 

Captain  Carr,  who  had  served  under  Andrew  Jackson  in  nearly  all 
of  his  battles;  a Mr.  Eustace,  a relative  by  marriage  of  the  Hon.  J. 
L.  D.  Morrison,  of  St.  Louis;  Washington  Chapman,  of  Boonville, 
a brother-in-law  of  Col.  James  Collins,  who  published  the  first  news- 
paper in  New  Mexico,  and  who  was  very  mysteriously  murdered 
there,  and  some  dozen  others,  whose  names  are  not  remembered, 
started  from  the  city  of  Santa  Fe  some  time  during  the  winter  of 
1832-33,  on  their  way  to  St.  Louis.  Their  idea  in  selecting  this 
inhospitable  season  for  their  trip  was,  that  they  thereby  hoped  to 
avoid  molestation  by  the  Indians,  as  they  had  a large  amount  of 
gold  and  silver  with  them.  Their  route  lay  along  the  Canadian 
Fork  of  the  Arkansas  River,  and  they  used  every  precaution  to 
avoid  a collision  with  the  savages,  but  in  vain. 

As  they  were  journeying  close  to  a line  of  low  sand-hills,  a large 
force  of  Indians,  lying  behind  them,  fired  upon  the  party,  and  in  a 
few  seconds  all  of  their  animals  and  several  of  their  men  lay  dead 
around  them.  Though  taken  by  surprise,  the  survivors  fought 
gallantly,  digging  shallow  rifle-pits  and  piling  up  their  dead  animals, 
packs  and  baggage  as  breastworks. 

Here  they  maintained  themselves  until  they  were  unable  longer 
to  endure  the  awful  agonies  of  thirst,  and  after  taking  all  the 
ammunition  they  could  carry,  and  a few  dollars  from  the  vast  hoards 
that  lay  around  them,  they  scattered  the  remainder  of  their  ammuni- 
tion, so  as  to  render  it  useless  to  the  Indians,  and  chosing  the  darkest 
portion  of  the  night,  they  stole  cautiously  out  of  camp,  and  began 
their  toilsome  and  terrible  march  toward  the  nearest  Arkansas  set- 
tlements. 

To  their  surprise,  the  savages  did  not  pursue  them,  but  they  found, 
in  the  frozen  and  desolate  plains,  a foe  no  less  to  be  dreaded.  They 
were  unable  to  secure  any  species  of  game;  and  wild  beans,  the 
roots  of  weeds  and  grasses,  and  even  insects,  were,  for  sixteen  days, 
their  only  food.  Almost  frozen,  and  famished  for  want  of  proper 
sustenance,  they  wandered  despairingly  onward,  regretting  that  the 
bullets  and  the  arrows  of  the  Comanches  had  not  bestowed  upon 
them  a speedy  and  merciful  death. 


BILL  BENT  AND  OTHERS. 


473 


Some  fell  through  exhaustion,  and  unable  to  rise,  perished  where 
they  lay;  others,  of  stronger  frames  or  more  indomitable  spirit, 
staggered  wearily  along,  mere  skeletons  of  men,  looking  like  horri- 
ble phantasms,  and  jibbering  in  the  incipient  idiocy  incident  to  their 
starving  condition.  By  their  side  walked  the  visible  demons  of 
hunger  and  thirst,  holding  with  them  horrible  converse  and  tempt- 
ing them  to  suicide  and  murder. 

On  the  seventeenth  day  of  their  wanderings,  one  of  the  men — 
named  Harris — of  heroic  endurance,  left  his  dying  comrades,  and 
hastened  on  for  relief.  The  others  now  become  idiots,  through 
inanition,  wept  and  babbled,  unable  almost  to  move.  Harris  was 
lucky  enough  to  strike  the  camp  of  a party  of  Creek  Indians,  out  on 
a hunting  expedition,  and  sent  them  to  the  relief  of  his  companions. 
At  this  time,  William  Waldo — who  was  then  in  the  Indian  Nation, 
having  left  Santa  Fe  a short  time  before — heard  of  the  terrible 
plight  of  these  men,  and  hastened  to  their  relief,  arriving  shortly 
after  their  rescue  by  the  Creeks.  They  had  been  taken  to  Fort 
Gibson,  and  from  there,  by  boat,  to  St.  Louis. 

To  palliate,  in  some  measure,  the  savage  hostility  of  theComanches, 
at  this  period,  it  will  be  necessary  to  explain  its  origin.  Up  to  a 
short  time  before  the  terrible  battles,  in  which  we  have  seen  the 
Bents  engaged,  the  Comanches  had  always  been  friendly  to  the 
American  trappers  and  traders,  and  fearing  no  trouble,  a company 
of  men  crossing  the  plains  had  detached  two  of  their  number, 
McNeice  and  Monroe,  to  go  ahead  and  select  a camping-place. 

They  had  become  extremely  careless,  being  in  the  Comanche 
country  and  understanding  that  they  were  friendly,  and  after  choos- 
ing a camp,  they  had,  from  all  the  indications,  lain  down  and  gone 
to  sleep.  Here  they  were  killed  by  Indians,  who  were  probably 
not  able  to  resist  the  temptation  of  safely  murdering  two  white 
men.  The  stream,  upon  which  this  cowardly  deed  was  perpetrated, 
has  ever  since  born  the  name  of  McNeice’ s Creek. 

It  was  but  a few  days  after  this  sad  occurrence,  that  a party  of 
twenty  Comanches  rode  up  to  the  comrades  of  the  murdered  men, 
evidently  anticipating  no  trouble;  but  the  whites,  in  order  to  avenge 
their  companions,  fired  upon  them,  only  a few  of  the  savages  escap- 
ing the  close  and  unexpected  volley.  From  that  day  to  this,  the 
Comanches  have  been  the  implacable  enemies  of  the  whites,  though 


474 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


before  they  had,  with  the  exception  of  the  murder  of  the  two  men, 
been  very  friendly. 

In  1826,  a party  of  some  seventy  men,  under  command  of 
Captain  Le  Grand,  had  started  from  New  Orleans  to  Santa  Fe,  for 
the  purpose  of  hunting,  trapping  and  trading,  and  missing  their  way 
upon  the  terrible  desert  plateaus  of  the  Llano  Estacado , or  staked 
plains,  they  had  wandered  for  days  over  this  sterile  tract,  and  fully 
one-half  of  their  number  perished  of  famine,  before  they  were  dis- 
covered by  the  Comanches;  who,  after  nursing  them  back  to  health, 
clothed  them  suitably,  and  conveyed  them  to  Santa  Fe,  without 
demanding  ransom  or  reward. 

A party  under  command  of  a Captain  Means,  of  Howard  County, 
Missouri,  and  whose  descendants  still  live  in  that  county,  were  trav- 
eling along,  a few  weeks  behind  the  party  which  had  fired  upon  the 
Indians,  in  return  for  their  murder  of  Monroe  and  McNeice.  Igno- 
rant of  the  change  in  the  attitude  of  the  Comanches,  and  having 
every  confidence  in  their  friendship,  these  men  rode  confidently  into 
a large  encampment  of  these  savages,  and  were  surprised  by  a fire, 
that  cut  down  Captain  Means  and  several  others. 

Retreating  as  well  as  they  cpuld,  they  entrenched  themselves — as 
the  Eustace  party  afterward  did — with  their  dead  mules  and  bag- 
gage. Here  they  made  a brave  fight,  but  were  at  last  compelled  to 
succumb  to  the  same  enemy,  that  afterward  vanquished  Eustace,  and 
packing  all  of  their  money  upon  their  backs,  they  stole  out  of  camp 
during  the  night,  and  retreated  toward  the  Arkansas  River. 

When  this  was  reached,  they  found  that  they  were  unable  to  carry 
their  money  any  further,  and  they  cached  it  up  on  the  west  ban!, 
of  the  river,  where  it  was  recovered  the  next  year  intact — not  i\ 
single  dollar  missing.  A brawny  Englishman  carried,  to  the  last, 
his  share  of  the  money,  some  seventeen  hundred  silver  dollars;  in 
weight,  about  a hundred  pounds.  He  declared  that  he’d  just  as  lief  be 
dead,  as  to  be  without  ready  money,  and  that,  while  he  lived,  he 
would  carry  it.  Most  of  the  company  became  exhausted  from 
famine.  Two  of  the  most  hardy  hastened  forward  for  succor. 

These  were  Thomas  Ellison,  of  Cooper  County,  and Bryant, 

of  Boone  County,  Missouri.  At  Council  Grove,  Kansas — then  in  the 
wilderness — they  managed  to  kill  a bird,  either  a crow  or  a buzzard, 
and,  after  a feast  upon  this  obscene  fowl,  they  were  able  to  push  on 


BILL  BENT  AND  OTHERS. 


475 


to  the  settlements  on  the  border,  where  they  obtained  aid  for  their 
dying  comrades.  All  of  these  were  in  a pitiable  plight,  when  res- 
cued. One  of  them,  named  Herriman,  a resident  of  Chariton 
County,  Missouri,  had  become  perfectly  blind,  and  when  found,  was 
lying  upon  his  back  endeavoring  to  beat  off,  with  a stick,  the  swarm- 
ing coyotes , which,  from  his  cadaverous  appearance,  and  their  deter- 
mined attacks,  seemed  to  fancy  him  already  legitimate  prey. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


BENT’S  ADVENTURES  IN  NEW  MEXICO. 


DARING  SPIRITS AN  EXTENDED  FIELD THE  MILITARY  ESCORT THE 

NATIONAL  BOUNDARY ATTACKED  BY  SAVAGES NOBLE  CONDUCT  OF 

MAJOR  RILEY DISPIRITED  INDIANS THEY  RAISE  THE  SIEGE CHARLES 

BENT’S  RESCUE  OF  A COMRADE THE  GALLANT  NINE DEATH  OF  LAMB 

GENERAL  VISCARRO INDIAN  TREACHERY RESCUED  BY  THE  TRA- 
DERS  NOBLE  ACT  OF  A PUEBLO  INDIAN RILEY  ON  THE  ARKANSAS 

A COWARDLY  CAPTAIN THE  TWO  ESCORTS  MEET MILITARY  COURTE- 
SIES  BENT’S  FORT ITS  HUNTER GENERAL  KEARNEY COLONELS 

SNIVELY  AND  WARFIELD BENT’S  FORT  BESIEGED DESERTERS BILL 

BENT  IN  SIGHT HIS  FURY HIS  ARAPAHO  FRIEND,  YELLOW7-  BEAR— — 

THE  WAGON  TRAIN THE  GATHERING  STORM FLIGHT  OF  THE  INDIANS 

THE  SAVAGE  VIDETTES THEIR  PICKET  SYSTEM BENT  MOVES  TO  MIS- 
SOURI  RESTRAINTS  OF  CIVILIZATION HIS  DAUGHTER  MARRIES HIS 

SONS CHEYENNE  LEADERS MIXED  BREEDS. 


As  will  be  readily  conceived,  the  determined  hostility  of  the 
Indians  along  the  Santa  Fe.  trail,  and  the  numerous  disasters  with 
which  the  traders  met  in  these  eventful  years,  deterred  all,  except 
the  boldest  spirits,  from  venturing  where  was  certain  peril  and 
probable  death.  Amongst  those  heroes,  who  were  still  willing  to 
encounter  the  fearful  odds  of  Indian  combat,  were  to  be  found  the 
Bents,  Waldos  and  a few  others  whom  no  danger  had  ever  daunted, 
and  who,  in  the  present  state  of  affairs,  saw  open  to  them  a wider 
field  of  trade,  and  one  free  from  opposition.  Accordingly,  in  1829, 
a party  of  these  men  applied  to  General  Andrew  Jackson,  who  had 
just  taken  his  seat  as  president,  for  a military  escort  to  accompany 
them  to  the  Arkansas  River,  which  at  that  time  formed  the  boun- 
dary between  the  two  republics  of  North  America. 

This  request  was  readily  granted,  and  Major  Bennett  Riley — who 
afterward  became  a general,  and  who  figured  in  the  history  of  the 
Pacific  Slope  as  Military  Governor  of  California — wTas  detailed  with 
two  hundred  men  to  meet  the  party  at  Fort  Leavenworth  and 
accompany  them  to  the  Arkansas.  The  company  of  traders  num- 
bering sixty  men  rendezvoused  at  Round  Grove  about  forty  miles 
west  of  Independence,  Missouri.  Here  Charles  Bent  was  chosen 

476 


bent’s  ADVENTURES  IN  NEW  MEXICO. 


477 


captain  of  the  company,  and  with  thirty-six  wagons,  fully  freighted 
with  valuable  goods,  they  set  out  for  Santa  Fe;  being  joined  by 
Major  Riley,  to  whom  they  had  dispatched  a messenger,  at  the  junc- 
tion of  the  Independence  and  Leavenworth  trails. 

In  due  time,  and  without  any  event  worthy  of  record,  they  reached 
the  Arkansas,  at  Chouteau’s  Island,  and  bidding  farewell  to  the  gal- 
lant Major  and  his  brave  soldiers  they  plunged  into  the  shallow 
waters  of  the  river,  and  were  soon  on  Mexican  soil.  Here  their  trouble 
began;  the  deep,  dry  sand  engulfing  their  wagon  wheels  almost  to 
the  hubs,  stalling  the  teams,  and  utterly  preventing  an  orderly 
arrangement  upon  the  march.  Notwithstanding  the  constant  order 
to  close  up,  the  wagons  were  soon  strung  out  over  half  a mile  of 
road.  To  guard  against  surprise,  Captain  Bent  had  thrown  out 
advance  and  rear  guards,  but  either  through  negligence  of  these 
videttes,  or  from  the  completeness  with  which  the  Indians  had  con- 
cealed themselves,  they  had  gone  only  nine  miles,  when  the  savages 
seemed  to  spring  from  the  very  bowels  of  the  earth,  and  poured  in  a 
close  and  heavy  fire  upon  them. 

The  surprise  was  complete,  but  Bent,  mounted  on  a large  black 
horse,  bareheaded,  and  with  his  long,  black  hair  floating  upon  the 
wind,  dashed  up  and  down  the  line  forming  his  men.  Every  ravine 
swarmed  with  Indians,  but  above  their  terrific  yelling  was  heard  the 
stentorian  whoop  of  Bent.  Two  of  his  men  had  been  lagging  in  the 
rear  of  the  train  and,  at  the  first  fire,  one  fell  dead,  while  the  other 
with  fifty  Indians  in  pursuit,  dashed  on  toward  the  wagons. 

Escape  would  have  been  impossible,  had  not  Bent  seen  the  situa- 
tion and  charged  toward  the  advancing  savages  with  a fury  that 
effectually  checked  their  pursuit,  and  enabled  the  man  to  join  his 
comrades.  The  battle  continued  to  rage  furiously,  and  nothing  but 
Bent’s  coolness,  and  the  desperate  bravery  of  his  men,  prevented  a 
charge  from  the  Indians,  who  numbered  at  least  a thousand.  In  the 
train  was  a small  brass  cannon,  the  first  that  ever  crossed  the  Arkan- 
sas trail,  and  it  was  greatly  dreaded  by  the  Comanches,  amongst 
whom  its  first  discharge  had  made  fearful  havoc. 

After  digging  rifle-pits,  Bent,  seeing  that  without  water  he  would 
be  unable  to  long  maintain  his  position,  called  for  volunteers  to 
endeavor  to  notify  Major  Riley  of  the  situation  of  the  party. 
Although  the  duty  seemed  one  that  must  lead  to  certain  death,  yet  so 


478 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


great  a number  announced  their  willingness  to  go,  that  it  was  neces- 
sary to  select  nine  men  to  undertake  the  mission.  These  heroes  knew 
that  their  sole  dependance  lay  in  their  fighting  qualities,  for  their 
mules  were  so  worn  down  by  fatigue,  that  flight  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. From  some  unaccountable  reason  the  swarming  Indians  allowed 
them  to  pass  through  their  lines,  without  firing  a single  shot  at  them, 
and  with  all  haste  they  set  out  for  the  Arkansas  River,  where  they 
still  hoped  to  find  Riley  encamped. 

This  gallant  officer  beheld  them,  at  some  distance,  and  rightly 
surmising  that  there  was  trouble  ahead,  he  at  once  began  striking 
his  tents,  and  by  the  time  they  had  arrived,  he  was  already  upon 
Mexican  soil,  and  marching  swiftly  to  the  relief  of  his  beleaguered 
countrymen.  It  was  a breach  of  national  etiquette — this  crossing 
the  boundary  of  a friendly  power,  with  an  armed  force-— but  blood 
was  thicker  than  water,  and  the  ties  of  true  bravery  and  humanity 
more  potent  than  the  red  tape  rules  of  form  and  ceremony. 

So  rapid  and  silent  was  Riley’s  approach  to  the  train,  that  ho 
even  penetrated  between  the  pickets  of  the  traders  and  their  camp 
before  he  was  discovered.  Then  there  arose  such  joyous  cheers 
from  camp  and  soldiers,  that  the  savages,  concluding  that  they  in 
turn  would  have  to  assume  the  defensive,  quietly  decamped,  and! 
the  caravan  was  accompanied  through  the  sand  hills  by  the  troops, 
and  was  once  more  safe. 

The  arrival  of  Riley  was  a God-send  to  the  trappers,  who  must 
otherwise  have  eventually  been  obliged  to  desert  their  train,  and 
seek  for  water,  or  perish  of  thirst.  One  of  the  hired  men  in  tho 
train,  now  applied  to  the  Major  for  permission  to  enlist  with  him, 
but,  surmising  his  reason  for  this  move,  the  officer  asked  him  why 
he  wished  to  become  a soldier.  The  fellow  frankly  informed. him. 
that  he  was  afraid  to  continue  with  the  train,  now  that  the  escort 
was  about  to  return.  As  seon  as  he  heard  this  answer,  Riley  told 
him  that  his  men  were  soldiers,  not  cowards,  and  that  he  did  not 
want  any  of  the  latter  class. 

Others  of  the  trainmen  were  waiting  to  see  the  success  of  this 
fellow’s  application,  and  if  all  had  enlisted,  who  desired  to  do  so, 
the  expedition  of  the  traders  must  have  been  abandoned  right  there. 
Mr.  Lamb,  the  wealthiest  of  the  traders,  fell  in  this  battle,  and  was 
buried  in  the  sand-hills,  but  afterward,  we  believe,  the  remains  were 
removed  to  St.  Louis,  and  there  re-interred. 


bent’s  ADVENTURES  IN  NEW  MEXICO. 


479 


We  have  now,  after  considerable  preliminary  explanation, 
approached  the  reason  for  the  traders  turning  their  course  from 
Santa  Fe,  which  point  they  had  intended  at  first  to  reach,  to  Taos, 
some  eighty  miles  further  to  the  North.  By  this  detour  they  not 
only  avoided  canons,  in  which  there  were  sure  to  be  dangerous 
ambuscades,  but  they  were  also  enabled  to  obtain  a Mexican  mili- 
tary escort.  General  Viscarro  was  ordered  to  accompany  the 
traders  from  Taos  to  Santa  Fe,  and  they  once  more  set  out  on  their 
journey. 

At  the  Cimmaron  River,  a large  party  of  the  savages  approached 
the  escort,  bearing  in  their  van  the  Christian  symbol  of  the  cross, 
made  by  tying  an  arrow  transversely  across  a spear.  Honoring  this 
novel  flao-  of  truce  with  the  devotion  of  a true  Catholic,  Viscarro 
was  informed  that,  if  he  would  order  the  Americans  to  remove  to  a 
sufficient  distance  to  prevent  them  from  beholding  the  submission  of 
the  Comanches,  the  latter  would  surrender,  and  lay  down  their 
arms. 

Viscarro  very  foolishly  allowed  himself  to  be  made  the  victim  of 
this  weak  stratagem,  and  no  sooner  had  the  foes,  whom  the  Indians 
so  greatly  dreaded,  retired  out  of  sight,  than  the  treacherous  sav- 
ages poured  a destructive  fire  into  the  Mexican  ranks  at  such  close 
range  as  to  kill  and  wound  many  of  the  officers  and  men.  The 
escort,  taken  completely  by  surprise,  was  entirely  at  the  mercy  of 
the  Indians,  when  Bent,  hearing  the  firing,  and  suspecting  treachery, 
gathered  together  his  mounted  men,  and  flew  to  the  relief  of  the 
Mexicans. 

Enraged  at  the  peculiar  infamy  of  the  savages,  Bent  and  his  men 
burst  upon  them  with  fierce  yells  and  oaths,  and  delivered  a deadly 
volley  right  in  their  faces.  Their  rifles  were  then  discarded,  and 
having  next  emptied  their  pistols,  they  followed  up  their  attack 
with  tomahawks  and  clubbed  rifles,  and  soon  had  the  Comanches  in 
full  flight,  the  field  thickly  strewn  with  their  dead  and  wounded. 

An  action  worthy  of  record  was  here  performed  by  a Pueblo  (or 
Village)  Indian,  of  the  San  Pablo  community.  Being  near  General 
Viscarro,  and  understanding  the  language  of  the  hostiles,  he  heard 
one  of  the  latter  exclaim,  in  his  native  tongue,  “now  for  this  Gen- 
eral,” and  calling  out  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  “ hombres  quidaio ,” 
(look  out,  men  !)  he  then  threw  himself  before  Viscarro  and  received, 
in  his  own  body,  the  bullet  intended  for  the  Commander,  and  fell  to 


480 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


the  ground,  as  noble  a hero  as  the  lists  of  chivalry  record.  On  the 
return  of  the  caravan  to  the  Arkansas  River,  it  was  still  under  the 
protection  of  Viscarro,  who  was  anxious  to  meet  Major  Riley, 
whom  it  was  understood,  was  on  the  east  bank  of  that  river  await- 
ing the  arrival  of  the  traders. 

After  the  departure  of  the  train,  which  Riley  had  escorted  through 
the  sand-hills,  he  had  received  orders  to  remain  on  the  Arkansas 
River,  until  it  should  have  returned,  and  convey  it  back  to  the  Mis- 
souri. For  three  months  the  brave  fellow  had  held  his  post  in  this 
barren  wilderness,  and  had  had  almost  daily  battles  with  the  Indians. 
Quite  a number  of  his  men  had  been  slain  in  these  desultory  com- 
bats, and  nearly  all  of  his  stock  had  been  killed  or  stampeded. 

His  greatest  disaster  had  occurred  through  the  cowardice  of  one 
of  his  officers;  a captain,  whom  he  had  sent  with  a large  force  to 
kill  some  buffalos.  The  Indians  attacked  the  party,  and  this 
captain,  of  the  Bob  Acres  school,  fled  and  suffered  a number  of  his 
men  to  be  slaughtered  by  the  savages.  He  was  afterwards  court- 
martialed,  and  igniominously  dismissed  from  the  service. 

Riley  at  last  became  satisfied  that  the  traders  had  either  been 
massacred  by  the  Indians,  or  had  determined  to  stay  in  Mexico,  and 
crippled  as  he  was  for  want  of  stock,  he  set  out  on  his  return  to 
“the  States/’  just  two  days  before  Viscarro’ s arrival  on  the  opposite 
bank.  So  anxious  was  the  Mexican  to  meet  the  American  troops, 
that  Bent  sent  an  express  on  to  overtake  Riley,  and  halt  him,  until 
they  could  come  up.  He  was  found  about  thirty  miles  from  the 
Arkansas,  and  when  the  Mexicans  arrived,  two  days  were  very  pleas- 
antly spent  in  the  interchange  of  military  courtesies.  There  were 
drills,  inspections,  dress  parades  and  sham  battles,  and  the  men  of 
the  two  escorts  parted  firm  friends. 

From  this  time  on  nothing  exciting  occurred,  and  the  Americans 
and  Mexicans  reached  their  respective  homes  in  safety,  meeting 
with  no  more  serious  annoyance  than  the  nightly  serenades  of  the 
infernal  coyotes.  The  disheartened  savages  had  given  up  their 
attempt  to  crush  out  the  travel  along  the  Arkansas  trail,  and  entered 
into  no  more  great  military  combinations,  preferring  the  safer  and 
to  them  more  natural  warfare  of  small,  predatory  bands,  moving 
with  celerity,  and  striking  only  detached  individuals,  and  small, 
unguarded  bodies  of  men.  Depending  entirely  upon  hunting  for 
their  supplies,  and  with  no  idea  of  an  organized  commisariat,  the 


THE  COYOTE  SERENADE  ON  THE  PLAINS. 


bent's  ADVENTURES  IN  NEW  MEXICO. 


482 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


savage  is  unequal  to  extended  or  prolonged  military  operations, 
and  to  this  fact,  almost  as  much  as  to  his  inferior  determination, 
may  be  traced  the  causes  of  his  immense  inferiority  to  the  white 
man  as  a warrior. 

Bents’  Fort,  or  Fort  William,  as  it  was  at  first  known,  was  situa- 
ted on  the  Arkansas,  and  was  the  property  of  St.  Vrain  and  William 
Bent.  It  was  built  in  1833,  and  the  celebrated  Kit  Carson — who 
had  graduated  as  a trapper  and  hunter,  as  well  as  Indian  fighter, 
from  the  school  of  the  brave  and  noble  Ewing  Young — was  the  post- 
hunter here  from  1834  to  1842.  In  the  latter  year  he  became  the 
chief  guide  to  Lieutenant  Fremont,  and  acted  as  such  in  his  various 
expeditions,  undertaken  under  government  auspices.  This  fort 
witnessed  many  mutations,  and  was  the  scene  of  several  important 
events.  Here  General  Kearney  rendezvoused  his  troops,  before 
starting  across  the  plains  for  the  conquest  of  California,  and  here 
the  Texas  filibustering  expedition  of  Colonels  Snively  and  Warfield 
gathered,  in  1843,  for  their  descent  upon  New  Mexico. 

On  one  occasion  it  was  besieged  by  some  thousands  of  plains 
Indians ; all  of  the  various  tribes  having  laid  aside  their  mutual  hos- 
tilities, and  leagued  together  for  the  extermination  of  the  white 
men,  and  the  closing  of  all  routes  across  the  plains,  and  through 
their  hunting  grounds.  Bill  Bent,  approaching  it  with  his  wagon- 
train,  and  knowing  that  two  or  three  hundred  raw  recruits  of  the 
United  States  army  formed  its  only  garrison,  hastened  rapidly  to 
its  relief.  On  his  way  he  met  several  deserters,  who  in  the  night 
had  scaled  the  walls  of  what  they  regarded  as  a doomed  place,  and 
stealing  cautiously  through  the  savage  lines,  had  fled  with  all  speed 
toward  the  States. 

Several  couriers  had  also  been  dispatched,  at  intervals  of  twelve 
hours  apart,  to  hurry  up  reinforcements.  When  he  arrived  in  sight 
of  his  fort,  Bent  saw  that  it  was  menaced  by  a terrible  danger; 
the  thousands  of  hostile  Indians  dancing  their  war  and  scalp 
dances,  and  endeavoring  to  work  themselves  up  to  the  proper 
pitch  of  frenzy  to  make  their  attack.  At  the  sight,  Bent’s  blood 
fairly  boiled,  and  leaving  his  train  under  charge  of  one  of  his  best 
men,  he  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  furiously  toward  the  fort. 
His  hat  was  off,  and  his  long  hair  trailed  out  behind  him  like  a ban- 
ner from  its  staff,  and  it  was  a trophy,  that  any  of  the  savages 
would  have  been  more  than  proud  to  wear  at  his  belt. 


bent’s  ADVENTURES  IN  NEW  MEXICO. 


483 


As  he  dashed  along  he  uttered  his  fierce  war-whoop,  and  with 
oaths,  couched  in  the  choicest  Cheyenne,  Sioux,  Arapaho  and  Eng- 
lish, he  dashed  through  the  ranks  of  the  awe  struck  Indians  and 
reached  the  gate  of  the  fort.  Behind  him,  no  less  brave  nor  deter- 
mined, came  tearing  along  his  firm  friend  and  ally,  Yellow  Bear, 
the  great  Arapaho  chief  and  strung  out  in  single  file  behind  him, 
came  fiercely  onward  a few  of  his  truest  braves,  any  one  of  whom 
would  have  gone  cheerfully  to  his  death  at  the  word  of  Bent  or  Yel- 
low Bear. 

The  wagon  train  came  steadily  along,  its  men  marching,  fully 
armed,  alongside,  and  all  well  closed  up,  and  it  reached  the  fort  in 
safety.  Here  they  found  Bent  getting  everything  in  order  to  give 
a warm  welcome  to  the  braves,  who  were  evidently  bent  on  an 
assault.  They  would  have  met  with  a hot  reception,  but  their  num- 
bers must  have  eventually  triumphed,  when  an  unforseen  event 
occurred.  The  lookout,  the  next  morning  after  Bent’s  arrival, 
beheld  afar  to  the  East  a slight  cloud  of  dust,  and  after  awhile,  a 
few  black  specks  became  visible  beneath  its  shadow.  As  these 
approached  they  grew  in  size  and  were  seen  to  be  Indian  videttes, 
with  their  ponies  on  a dead  run. 

On  their  arrival  at  the  Indian  encampment — for  the  Indians  had 
ostensibly  come  to  demand  their  annuities,  and  had  brought  along 
their  families,  goods  and  lodges — a curious  scene  was  enacted.  The 
squaws  at  once  began  taking  down  the  lodges,  adjusting  and  packing 
their  travais,  and  soon  the  entire  Indian  camp  was  in  full  retreat. 
Amidst  the  insulting  yells  of  the  warriors,  the  yelping  of  dogs,  the 
squalling  of  babies  and  the  rattle  of  the  pots  and  kettles,  piled  up  on 
the  travais,  the  savage  besiegers  crossed  the  Arkansas  and  disap- 
peared from  view. 

The  mystery  of  this  unaccountable  move,  upon  the  part  of  the 
allied  Indians,  was  explained  when,  late  on  the  evening  of  the  next 
day,  those  in  the  fort  beheld  the  approach  of  a regiment  of  United 
States  cavalry,  which  had  been  sent  to  the  relief  of  the  fort.  By 
their  admirable  picket  system,  the  savages  had  been  apprised  of 
their  approach  long  before  the  whites  dreamed  of  it,  and  fearing 
that  vengeance  might  be  taken  for  their  hostile  attitude  and  their 
war-like  threats,  they  had  prudently  decamped. 

Bill  Bent  had  quite  a family  by  a Cheyenne  wife,  and  at  one  time 
bought  property  at  Westport,  Missouri — for  which,  at  that  time, 


484 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Kansas  City  was  the  landing — and  furnished  his  house  handsomely. 
The  restraints  of  civilization  were,  however,  too  much  for  the 
prairie-born  and  plains-reared  wife  and  children,  and  they  returned 
to  the  wilderness,  after  a short  trial  of  their  new  life.  His  dau<rh- 
ter  married  some  white  man  at  Westport,  and  the  boys  returned  to 
their  mother’s  tribe,  where  they  became  thorough  Indians,  although, 
through  the  efforts  of  their  father  who  spared  no  pains  to  civilize 
them,  they  had  acquired  moderate  educations. 

When  the  ranchmen  were  retreating  from  the  Platte  during  the 
Sioux  and  Cheyenne  troubles — about  1863,  I think — it  was  reported 
that  two  of  Bent’s  sons,  George  Bent,  and  one  called  “Little  Bent,” 
were  in  command  of  Cheyenne  bands.  None  of  them  ever  attained 
to  the  celebrity  of  their  father,  in  anything;  the  taint  of  Indian 
blood  poisoning  their  nobler  qualities,  and  these  degenerate  sons  of 
an  illustrious  sire  show  strongly  the  evil  effects  of  a mongrel  mix- 
ture of  races,  in  which,  as  a general  rule,  only  the  worst  qualities 
of  each  parent  are  perpetuated,  and  the  nobler  extinguished. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


ADVENTURES  OP  J.  S.  SMITH,  THE  TRAPPER. 


A CELEBRATED  TRAPPER HIS  DESCRIPTION WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES 

THE  FIRST  AMERICAN  TO  REACH  CALIFORNIA  OVERLAND SITE  OF  HIS 

CAMP RETURNS  TO  GREEN  RIVER RETAKES  A STOLEN  HORSE 

BLACKBIRD,  THE  OMAHA  CHIEF A RED  DESPOT A GREAT  MEDICINE 

MAN UNLUCKY  RIVALS HIS  METHODS  OF  TRADE A SEASON  OF 

REMORSE GENERAL  JOY HIS  RIVAL,  LITTLE  BOW DEATH  OF  BLACK- 
BIRD  CURIOUS  BURIAL THE  CEREMONIES HUMAN  SACRIFICES  TO 

THE  GREAT  STAR  (VENUS) SMITH’S  TESTIMONY SECOND  TRIP  TO  CALI- 
FORNIA  CONTINUAL  BATTLING BESIEGED  IN  CAMP A DESPERATE 

CHARGE THE  SURVIVORS ENTER  CALIFORNIA ARRESTED  BY  THE 

SPANIARDS RELEASED FRIGHTENED  JESUITS ON  TO  THE  NORTH 

INDIAN  ATTACKS THE  MASSACRE ESCAPE  OF  SMITH RETURNS  TO 

ST.  LOUIS SELLS  OUT  OF  THE  FUR  COMPANY GOLD  DISCOVERY 

STARTS  FOR  SANTA  FE OMINOUS  WARNINGS WAYLAID  BY  THE  SAV- 
AGES  HIS  DEATH  ON  THE  CIMMARON A REMARKABLE  MAN ACCOUNT 

OF  COMRADES A NOBLE  PIONEER. 


This  was  one  of  the  most  celebrated  of  American  trappers,  and 
was  the  first  American  who,  by  the  overland  route,  ever  set  foot 
within  the  borders  of  California.  Smith  was  a large-sized,  fine 
looking  man,  with  black  hair  and  blue  eyes,  and  was  a native  of 
Virginia  or  Kentucky.  He  was  a man  of  the  most  unbounded  cour- 
age, and  added  to  his  bravery  a cool  judgment  and  a ready  wit. 
He  was  a man  for  emergencies,  and  his  adventures,  like  those  of 
another  of  the  Smith  family,  Captain  John  Smith,  of  Virginia, 
trench  closely  upon  the  marvelous. 

Living  in  almost  hourly  peril,  he  was  one  of  the  few  trappers 
who  perished  at  the  hands  of  the  Indians.  Leaving  his  camp  on  the 
plains,  he  started  for  the  Cimmaron  River,  to  search  for  water  for 
his  comrades,  and  this  hero  of  twice  a hundred  battles  was  waylaid 
by  the  savages  and  murdered. 

Trapping  along  the  headwaters  of  the  Missouri  River,  Smith 
crossed  over  the  mountains  in  the  spring  of  1824,  and  with  a small 
party  made  his  way,  the  succeeding  spring,  into  California.  He 
camped  on  the  American  River,  and  in  July  of  this  year  (1825), 
built  a post  near  the  site  of  the  present  town  of  Folsom,  and  fol- 
lowed his  pursuit  vigorously. 


485 


486 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


In  October,  of  the  same  year,  Smith  left  his  men  at  this  post 
and,  undeterred  by  the  imminent  perils  of  his  journey,  started  East 
to  inform  his  partners — then  on  Green  River — of  his  new  location. 
He  made  many  narrow  escapes  on  this  journey;  had  his  horse  stolen 
by  seven  Indians,  and  stalked  boldly  into  their  camp  and  retook  it 
before  their  faces,  they  not  daring  to  attack  him,  so  great  was  their 
fear  of  the  celebrated  trapper. 

Before  crossing  the  mountains,  Smith  had  been  a prime  favorite 
of  Blackbird,  the  great  Omaha  chief.  This  was  one  of  the  shrewd- 
est Indians  that  ever  lived,  and  with  a wisdom  greater  than  that  of 
Tecumseh,  or  Pontiac,  he  realized  at  once  the  futility  of  a struggle 
against  the  whites,  and  by  a peaceful  policy,  determined  to  reap 
the  greatest  benefit  possible  from  this  knowledge. 

By  his  arts  of  statecraft,  backed  by  a fearless  courage  and  an 
indomitable  will,  Blackbird  obtained  such  a supremacy  amongst  his 
people,  as  has  seldom  fallen  to  the  lot  of  a self-appointed  ruler. 
His  power  was  absolute.  From  some  of  the  traders  he  had  learned 
the  use  of  arsenic,  in  destroying  life,  and  with  a full  supply  of  this 
deadly  poison,  he  obtained  a great,  reputation  as  a medicine  man. 

Whoever  opposed  his  measures  or  his  wishes,  was  sure  to  perish 
— he  brooked  no  rival  near  the  throne.  A few  days  before  admin- 
istering the  fatal  dose,  he  would  announce  that  such  a chief  would 
die;  it  had  been  revealed  to  him  by  the  Great  Spirit.  The  prophecy 
never  failed.  When  traders  came  to  the  village,  Blackbird  had 
their  packs  brought  to  his  lodge,  and  there,  for  the  first  time,  they 
were  opened ; no  one  being  admitted  to  the  lodge  but  the  trader  and 
himself. 

He  then  selected  such  articles  as  he  fancied,  often  taking  half  of 
the  goods,  but  to  remunerate  the  white  man,  he  forced  the  tribe  to 
buy  the  rest  at  a double  valuation.  In  this  way  he  remained  on  the 
best  of  terms  with  all  of  the  traders ; benefiting  them  and  enriching 
himself  at  the  expense  of  his  followers,  somewhat  after  the  manner 
of  more  civilized  princes,  and  high  tariff  politicians. 

Remorse  seemed  never  to  trouble  his  adaptable  conscience,  except 
upon  a single  occasion.  His  favorite  squaw  offended  him  in  some 
way,  and  with  a single  blow  of  his  knife  he  stretched  her  dead  at  his 
feet.  In  an  instant  he  realized  what  the  violence  of  his  temper  had 
caused  him  to  do.  Seating  himself  in  his  lodge,  he  covered  his 


ADVENTURES  OE  J.  S.  SMITH,  TIIE  TRAPPER 


487 


head  with  his  blanket,  and  in  his  solitude  gave  way  to  the  agony  of 
his  grief. 

For  three  days  and  nights  he  remained  thus,  deaf  to  the  prayers 
and  entreaties  of  his  people,  and  never  moved,  until  at  last,  one  of 


BLACKBIRD,  CHIEF  OF  THE  OMAIIAS. 


the  squaws  brought  in  the  little  child  of  the  dead  woman,  and  rais- 
ing the  leg  of  the  chief,  placed  the  child  beneath  it,  with  the  foot 
of  the  chief  upon  its  neck,  and  then  left  the  lodge.  Roused  by 


488 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


the  weeping  of  the  infant,  Blackbird  arose,  bathed,  and  went  forth, 
to  the  great  delight  of  the  tribe. 

At  last  a formidable  rival  arose  in  the  person  of  Little  Bow,  a 
noted  young  chief  who  exited  a considerable  faction  against  the 
tyranny  and  extortion  of  Blackbird.  For  a time  he  made  consider- 
able headway,  but  was  at  last  overcome  by  the  superior  machina- 
tions of  the  wily  old  chief.  He  first  endeavored  to  remove  the 
young  chief,  in  his  usual  manner,  by  poison,  and  employed  the 
squaw  of  the  latter  to  administer  it,  but  Little  Bow  had,  in  some 
way,  become  suspicious  of  the  actions  of  the  woman,  and  when  she 
brought  him  the  poisoned  food,  he  detected  it  from  her  great 
embarrasment  and  forced  her  to  eat  it,  of  course  causing  her  death. 
Blackbird,  nothing  daunted,  continued  his  intrigues,  and  finally  suc- 
ceeded in  driving  out  his  rival  and  the  party  that  adhered  to  him. 

In  his  latter  days,  Blackbird  became  very  corpulent  and  unwieldy, 
owing  to  his  gluttony  and  inaction.  Continual  feasts  were  now 
made  in  his  honor,  to  which  he  was  conveyed,  seated  upon  a blanket 
borne  by  four  men.  Even  in  this  helpless  state,  he  maintained  his 
power,  and  to  the  day  of  his  death,  ruled  his  people  with  a rod  of 
iron.  Before  he  died,  he  asked  that  he  should  be  buried  on  the  top 
of  the  high  hill  overlooking  the  village,  that  he  might  still  see  the 
boats  of  the  traders  ascending  the  river,  and  be  gladdened  by 
the  presence  of  his  white  friends. 

He  desired  to  be  buried  sitting  upon  his  favorite  steed,  with  his 
face  looking  down  the  current  of  the  mighty  river.  All  of  his 
wishes  were  carried  out  at  his  burial  and  for  years  after  food  and 
water  were  daily  placed  upon  his  grave.  This  was  eagerly  devoured 
by  the  hawks,  eagles  and  coyotes,  but  his  tribe  firmly  believed  that 
their  chief  had  eaten  the  food  prepared  for  him.  His  flag-staff, 
with  its  floating  pennant,  was  constantly  renewed,  until  the  tribe 
were  forced  to  leave  for  another  location. 

En  passant  Smith’s  testimony — for  he  was  a man  of  more  than 
usual  observation  and  of  undoubted  veracity — sets  at  rest  all  dis- 
putes in  regard  to  a custom  of  some  of  the  plains  Indians,  in  making 
human  sacrifices  as  a religious  duty.  He  positively  asserts,  that  the 
Pawnees  had  such  a custom,  and  states  that  this  sacrifice  was  made 
to  the  Great  Star  (Venus).  One  of  their  prisoners — sometimes  a 
man  and  sometimes  a woman — was  selected  and  carefully  fed  with 
every  luxury  they  could  obtain.  The  fate  in  store  for  the  victim 


ADVENTURES  OF  J.  S.  SMITH,  THE  TRAPPER.  481) 

was  carefully  concealed,  and  he  or  she  was  dressed  in  the  finest  rai- 
ment obtainable,  and  under  perfect  ease  of  body  and  mind,  rapidly 
fattened. 

When  the  body  had.become  plump  and  round,  the  victim  was  led 
out  and  bound  to  a stakes  shaped  like  a cross,  his  outstretched  arms 
being  fastened  to  the  arm-piece.  Ceremonies,  dances  and  songs 
were  then  performed  by  the  people,  and  mysterious  mummeries  and 
incantations  by  the  medicine  men,  and  when  this  was  concluded,  one 
of  the  latter  approached  the  stake,  and  with  a single  blow  of  his 
tomahawk,  split  the  skull  of*  the  victim.  The  body  was  then  shot 
full  of  arrows,  and  the  sacrifice  was  completed. 

In  May,  1826,  Smith  again  set  out  for  California,  accompanied  by 
a small  party  of  men.  In  a few  days  after  their  start,  they  were 
attacked  by  Indians,  and  from  this  time  on  they  were  harrassed  day 
and  night  bv  the  savages.  The  others  wished  to  turn  back,  and 
Smith  told  them  that  they  were  at  perfect  liberty  to  do  so,  but  that 
he  had  started  for  California,  and  he  intended  to  go  through  or  die 
Not  a man  turned  back.  Worn  out  with  their  continual  skirmish- 
ing, they  were  surrounded  at  the  Mohave  settlements,  on  the  Colo- 
rado River,  and  a desperate  battle  began. 

The  swarming  savages  attempted  charge  after  charge,  but  the 
handful  of  whites,  lying  behind  the  few  rocks  they  had  thrown 
around  them  as  a breast-work,  drove  them  back  each  time  with  ter- 
rific slaughter.  Man  after  man  fell  within  the  slight  fortification, 
and  when  night  came,  Smith  determined,  with  the  seven  men  left, 
to  cut  his  way  through  the  lines  of  the  enemy  and  attempt  escape 
by  flight. 

As  soon  as  it  was  dark,  Smith  told  his  comrades  of  his  determina- 
tion, showing  them  the  folly  of  lying  behind  their  insufficient  pro- 
tection, where  eventually  all  must  be  killed,  and  they  agreed  to  the 
desperate  suggestion.  Looking  closely  to  the  charges  in  their  rifles, 
they  secured  the  ammunition  of  their  dead  companions,  and  burst 
furiously  upon  one  side  of  the  savage  line.  This  gave  way  after  a 
brief,  but  stubborn  contest  and  the  whites  broke  through,  having 
lost  four  of  their  number  at  this  point. 

Smith,  with  these  two  surviving  comrades,  Turner  and  Galbraith, 
after  a thousand  perils  entered  California  close  to  the  Mexican  line, 
in  December,  and  were  there  arrested  under  the  suspicion  that  they 
intended  mischief,  or  had  designs  upon  the  government.  They  were 


490 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


carried  before  General  Echandia,  who  was  located  at  San  Diego,  and 
here  this  invading  force  of  three  almost  naked  men  was  subjected  to 
a rigid  interrogation  as  to  their  aims  and  business  in  entering 
the  State. 

Their  answers,  though  strictly  true,  failed  to  convince  Echandia 
of  the  innocence  of  their  intentions,  and  they  were  thrown  into 
prison,  from  which  they  were  released  only  after  the  intervention  of 
the  officers  commanding  the  American  merchantmen  and  whalers 
then  lying  on  the  coast.  In  the  letter,  signed  by  the  officers  of 
the  ships,  “Courier,”  “Wavcrly”  and  “Olive  Branch,”  the  motives 
and  necessities  of  Smith  and  his  comrades  were  fully  set  forth,  and 
it  was  shown,  that  they  had  been  forced  to  enter  the  territory  sub- 
ject to  Echandia,  to  escape  starvation  upon  the  barren  and  desolate 
stretches  of  plain  and  mountain,  lying  between  latitudes  forty-two 
and  forty-three  west. 

They  stated  that  the  sole  purpose  of  the  three  men  upon  the  Pacific 
Slope  was  to  trap  beaver,  and  trade  with  the  Indians  of  that  sec- 
tion— that  there  was  not  the  slightest  political  significance  in  their  - 
visit.  That  their  passports  from  the  Superintendent  of  Indian  Affairs, 
for  the  United  States,  had  been  vised  and  found  correct — and,  in 
conclusion,  they  asked  that  the  trappers  might  be  permitted  to  make 
their  way  to  the  Columbia  River,  in  Oregon,  through  California, 
believing  that  if  they  were  forced  to  return  by  the  route  they  had 
come,  they  must  inevitably  perish  at  the  hands  of  hostile  Indians, 
or  of  hunger  and  thirst,  in  that  inhospitable  region  from  which  they 
had  so  narrowly  escaped. 

The  men  were  discharged,  and  permitted  to  travel  through  Cali- 
fornia to  their  destination.  Of  this  permission,  Smith  at  once  availed 
himself,  but  Turner  and  Galbraith — who  had  had  enough  hunting 
and  trapping  through  the  wilderness — determined  to  remain  in  Cali- 
fornia. Smith  proceeded  to  his  camp  on  the  American  River,  and 
with  his  comrades,  who  had  been  left  there  the  preceding  year, 
started  toward  the  Columbia.  The  winter  was  now  upon  them,  in 
all  its  fury,  and  after  several  ineffectual  attempts  to  cross  the  snow- 
clad  Sierras  north  of  them,  they  gave  up  in  despair,  and  retreated 
once  more  to  the  valleys,  having  suffered  terribly. 

The  Jesuit  Fathers  became  greatly  alarmed  at  the  neighborhood 
of  these  liereticos  Americanos  to  their  Indian  flocks,  and  sent  a mes- 
senger to  demand  the  cause  of  their  presence.  Reduced  to  the  most 


ADVENTURES  OE  J.  S.  SMITH,  THE  TRAPPER. 


491 


desperate  extremities;  almost  naked,  and  destitute  of  any  provisions, 
except  the  flesh  of  such  game  as  they  might  be  able  to  kill,  Smith 
sent  the  following  letter  to  Father  Duran,  then  in  charge  of  the  Mis- 
sion of  San  Jose  : 

‘ ‘Reverend  Father  : — I understand,  through  the  medium  of  one  of  your  Christ- 
ian Indians,  that  you  are  anxious  to  know  who  we  are,  as  some  of  the  Indians 
have  been  at  the  Mission  and  informed  you  that  there  were  certain  white  people 
in  the  country.  We  are  Americans,  on  our  journey  to  the  River  Columbia.  We 
were  in  at  the  Mission  San  Gabriel,  in  January  last.  I went  to  San  Diego  and  saw 
the  General,  and  got  a passport  from  him  to  pass  on  to  that  place.  I have  made 
several  attempts  to  cross  the  mountains,  but  the  snows  being  so  deep,  I could  not 
succeed  in  getting  over.  I returned  to  this  place,  (it  being  the  on'ly  point  to  kill 
meat),  to  wait  a few  weeks,  until  the  snow  melts,  so  that  I can  go  on.  The  Indians 
here  being  also  friendly,  I consider  it  the  most  safe  point  for  me  to  remain,  until 
such  time  as  I can  cross  the  mountains  with  my  horses,  having  lost  a great  many 
in  attempting  to  cross  tenor  fifteen  days  since.  Iam  a long  ways  from  home,  and 
am  anxious  to  get  there  as  soon  as  the  nature  of  the  case  will  admit.  Our  situation 
is  quite  unpleasant,  being  destitute  of  clothing,  and  most  of  the  necessities  of  life, 
wild  meat  being  our  principal  subsistence.  I am,  Reverend  Father,  your  strange 
but  real  friend  and  Christian  brother.  J.  S.  SMITH.” 

“May  19th,  1827.” 

With  the  opening  of  the  summer,  the  snows  melted,  and  the  trap- 
pers continued  on  their  journey  toward  the  North.  As  they  trav- 
eled, they  were  daily  attacked  by  small  bands  of  skulking  Indians, 
and  when  they  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Umpqua  River,  in  Ore- 
gon, their  troubles  culminated.  Here  they  were  attacked  in  the 
early  dawn,  wThile  all  of  them  were  asleep,  by  hundreds  of  savages, 
and  of  the  whole  number,  but  three  escaped ; amongst  them  Captain 
Smith.  They  lost  all  of  their  packs  of  furs,  worth  thousands  of 
dollars,  these  being  taken  by  the  Indians  to  the  posts  of  the  Hud- 
son Bay  Company,  and  there  sold.  Smith,  with  Daniel  Fryer  and 
Richard  Laughlin,  continued  their  journey  to  the  North,  after  their 
almost  miraculous  escape,  and  eventually  succeeded  in  reaching 
Fort  Vancouver,  on  the  west  bank  of  the  Columbia. 

Here  he  remained,  making  various  excursions  in  all  directions, 
until  1830,  when  he  returned  to  St.  Louis  and  sold  out  his  interest 
in  the  fur  company.  It  is  said  that,  during  his  expeditions  in  the 
mountains,  lying  between  the  Great  Salt  Lake,  Utah,  and  Mono 
Lake,  in  California,  Smith  discovered  gold  in  considerable  quanti- 
ties and  disclosed  his  secret  to  his  partners.  Of  this,  however,  we 
lack  sufficient  testimony  to  pronounce  it  a fact.  Some  of  his  com- 
rades also  asserted,  that  the  bullets  fired  at  them  by  the  Indians 


41)2 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


during  their  many  fights  in  the  Wind  River  Mountains,  and  also 
near  the  present  site  of  Virginia  City,  Nevada,  were  made  of,  or 
heavily  alloyed  with  gold.  This,  too,  seems  a matter  of  much 
doubt. 

Having  closed  out  his  interest  in  the  fur  business,  Smith  found  it 
impossible  to  content  himself  in  St.  Louis,  or,  in  fact,  anywhere 
within  the  limits  of  civilization,  and  in  less  than  a year  after  he  had 


SMITH  ESCAPING  FROM  THE  MOHAVES. 


retired  from  the  exciting  life  of  a trapper  and  hunter,  we  find  him 
undertaking  new  risks  and  dangers.  But  before  going  further,  we 
will  dispose  of  the  claim  often  made  for  James  O.  Pattie,  that  he 
was  the  first  of  Americans  to  enter  California  overland.  Pattie  left 
the  Mississippi  Valley  in  1825,  with  a company  of  trappers,  their 
destination  being  the  Pacific  Coast.  These  men  roamed  over  the 
plains  and  mountains  of  Colorado  and  New  Mexico  for  five  years, 


ADVENTURE  OF  J.  S.  SMITH,  THE  TRAITER. 


493 


and  were  finally  surrounded  by  the  Yuma  Indians,  at  a point  in  the 
Gila  Valley,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Colorado  River. 


The  trappers  were  plundered  by  these  Indians,  and  finally,  in  the 
year  1830,  made  their  entrance  into  California.  A full  account  of 


494 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


this  expedition  appears  in  the  message  of  General  Jackson — then 
President  of  the  United  States — to  Congress,  in  the  year  1836. 
Captain  Brown,  by  water,  and  Captain  Smith,  by  land,  were  the 
prosaic  names  of  the  first  Americans  who  ever  trod  the  soil  of  the 
Golden  State. 

Had  Smith  been  superstitious,  or  paid  any  attention  to  omens, 
he  would  have  hesitated,  after  his  two  warnings — in  both  of  which 
he  had  made  one  of  the  mystical  number,  three,  who  had  escaped 
almost  miraculously  from  the  massacre,  in  which  their  comrades  had 
been  involved — before  undertaking  other  excursions,  in  which  he 
must  meet  his  old  foes,  the  treacherous  savages,  and  might  also 
encounter  those  unseen,  but  none  the  less  terrible  demons  of  thirst 
and  famine. 

But  Smith  was  a man  who  knew  no  fear,  and  so  compassed  had 
his  life  been  by  dangers,  that  its  every  exploit  had  borne  a seeming 
omen  of  evil.  Trusting  to  the  kindly  Providence r that  had  so  far 
preserved  him,  and  longing  for  the  absolute  freedom  from  restraint 
and  the  exciting  adventure  of  border  life,  he  started  with  an  immi- 
grant party  to  Santa  Fe. 

This  was  in  1831,  and  the  Indians  along  the  Southern  route  were 
unusually  troublesome ; the  situation  calling  for  all  of  the  old  trap- 
per’ s vigilance  and  experience  to  protect  the  train  under  his  charge. 
Finally  they  reached  the  dry  bed  of  the  Cimmaron  and  Smith 
started  out  from  camp  to  find  a water- hole,  not  daring  to  send  one 
of  the  immigrants,  for  fear  he  might  be  ambushed  and  killed.  As 
he  was  riding  along,  a party  of  twenty-five  Indians,  secreted  in  a 
ravine,  fired  upon  him  from  under  the  cover  of  its  bank,  at  a dist- 
ance of  about  twenty  yards.  Smith  fell  from  his  horse,  shot  through 
by  three  bullets,  but  as  the  savages  rushed  up,  he  succeeded  in  kil- 
ling one  with  his  rifle. 

Having  supposed  him  dead,  they  halted,  and  while  huddled 
together  in  a compact  mass,  he  emptied  his  two  pistols  into  them 
and  two  men  fell  to  the  ground.  He  attempted  to  rise,  and  another 
volley  of  balls  was  directed  against  him  and,  with  a slight  shudder, 
he  fell  back  and  expired.  Yellow  Bear — an  Arapaho  chief , to  whom 
the  Comanches  told  the  tale  of  this  murder — said  that  for  a long 
time  the  warriors  did  not  dare  to  approach  the  body  of  the  trapper, 
and  when  they  did,  the  fierce  glare  of  his  wide-open  eyes  so  dis- 
mayed them,  that  they  did  not  attempt  to  scalp  him. 


ADVENTURES  OF  J.  S.  SMITH,  THE  TRAPPER. 


495 


Smith  was,  in  some  respects,  the  most  remarkable  of  all  the  trap- 
pers, and  was  certainly  the  most  restless  and  daring  of  these  men. 
His  life  was  one  long  series  of  uninterrupted  adventure,  marked  by 
more  than  the  ordinary  perils  of  even  his  dangerous  avocation. 
His  exploits,  if  properly  recorded,  would  shame  the  fictitious  deeds 
of  the  imaginary  heroes  of  the  novelist,  and  would  require  the  space 
of  three  such  volumes  as  this  for  their  simplest  and  most  concise 
recital.  The  main  features  of  his  romantic  career  we  have  been 
enabled  to  record,  though  its  details  have  never  before  been  seen  in 
print. 

All  of  these  men  were  men  of  deeds,  not  words,  and  their  exploits 
live  only  in  the  tales  of  their  comrades ; none  of  them  being  given 
to  vainglorious  boasting  of  personal  prowess.  It  is  from  the  few 
surviving  comrades  that  our  accounts  have  been  garnered.  Their 
terrible  scars,  and  the  scalps  at  their  girdle,  alone  spoke  of  their 
brave  endurance  and  heroic  courage.  They,  and  not  the  latter  day 
“Kansas  Jakes”  and  “Dashing  Willies,”  were  the  true  pioneers  of 
the  sun-scorched  plains  and  frowning  mountains,  that  stand  as 
unsleeping  sentinels  between  the  Mississippi  Valley  and  the  Pacific 
Slope; in  both  of  which  sections  Jedediah  S.  Smith  figured  as  a 
pioneer. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


THE  SUBLETTES. 


CHARACTER  OF  THESE  MEN EARLY  DEATH  OF  JOHN A DOOMED  FAMILY 

GRAND-SONS  OF  COLONEL  WHITLEY THE  SLAYER  OF  TECUMSEH 

A DISPUTED  HONOR WILLIAM  SUBLETTE’S  START  IN  LIFE HIS  MANY 

BATTLES RICHARD  DOWLING,  HIS  FRIEND GENIAL  CHARACTER  OF 

SUBLETTE A PARTNER  OF  ROBERT  CAMPBELL CAMPBELL  A TRAPPER 

CONNECTION  WITH  THE  MOUNTAIN  MEN DAUSMAN  AND  ROLETTE 

HALF  BROTHERS  CONTRASTED MOUNTAIN  PIONEERS A SOURCE  OF 

WEALTH SUBLETTE’S  NARROW  ESCAPE  FROM  DEATH AT  THE  GREAT 

SALT  LAKE SUBLETTE  AND  BOUDINOT ORIGIN  OF  THE  CHEYENNES 

A MYSTERIOUS  RACE TWO  ACCOUNTS A CRAFTY  TRIBE TOO  AM- 
BITIOUS  THEIR  DOWNFALL PRIESTCRAFT JO  JEWETT  AND  E-TAY 

NO-PAH THE  DOG  SOLDIERS A DANGEROUS  BUFFALO  HUNT THE 

SURPRISE THE  INDIAN  BUFFALO  HUNT AN  UNPLEASANT  SITUATION 

THE  COMING  OF  NIGHT  AND  SAFETY PROVISIONS RETREAT  TO  THE 

MOUNTAINS A NOCTURNAL  LIFE LEAVE  THE  HILLS OTHER  SKIR- 
MISHES  BOUDINOT  WOUNDED JOINED  BY  MILTON  SUBLETTE. 


The  Sublettes  were  all  plains  and  mountain  men,  and  amongst 
the  most  noted  of  the  daring  spirits,  who  led  that  life  of  continual 
danger  and  excitement.  They  were  from  the  Crab  Orchard  settle- 
ment in  Kentucky,  and  were  all  large,  fine-looking  men,  of  great 
strength  and  agility.  Each  of  them,  however,  had  the  taint  of  con- 
sumption in  his  blood,  and  notwithstanding  their  hardy,  open  air 
life,  all  of  them,  except  one  brother — who  was  killed  on  Lewis’ 
Fork  of  the  Columbia — died  of  this  fatal  malady.  It  may  have 
been  that  their  continual  exposure  and  terrible  hardships  aggravated 
the  disease,  for  none  of  them  lived  to  the  age  usually  attained  by 
the  trapper  and  hunter,  who  was  not  cut  off  by  Indian  bullets  or 
other  violent  means. 

These  men  were  the  grand-sons  of  the  celebrated  Colonel  Whitley, 
of  Kentucky,  who  was  a famous  fighter  and  was  undoubtedly  the 
slayer  of  Tecumseh,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  that  honor  has 
been  always  claimed  for  Colonel  Johnson,  though  never  by  himself. 
From  the  proximity  of  the  bodies  of  the  two  men  and  their  position, 
as  well  as  from  other  circumstances,  most  of  the  Kentuckians  pres- 
ent in  the  battle  were  satisfied  that  to  Whitley,  and  not  Johnson, 
should  be  credited  the  honor  of  killing  this  celebrated  chief, 

496 


THE  SUBLETTES 


497 


William  Sublette  was  the  first  of  the  brothers  who  tried  the  rough 

O 

and  venturesome  life  of  the  trapper — having  gone  up  with  Ashley 
and  Henry  in  1823 — and  after  the  fight  at,  and  destruction  of,  the 
Arickara  village,  was  one  of  the  fourteen  men  who  procured  horses 
from  their  Sioux  allies  and  went  first  to  the  Yellowstone,  then  to 
the  Crow  village,  and  afterward,  made  their  way  across  the  moun- 
tains, discovered  the  Great  Salt  Lake  and  spent  some  time  on  the 
Columbia  River. 

Sublette  was  in  all  of  their  Indian  fights  and  skirmishes,  and  was 


HOME  OF  THE  SUBLETTES  AT  CRAB  ORCHARDS,  KENTUCKY. 


ever  amongst  the  first  in  a charge  and  the  last  in  a retreat.  Mr. 
Richard  Dowling,  of  St.  Louis,  who  was  an  intimate  friend  of 
Sublette,  says  of  him,  that  he  was  one  of  the  boldest,  jolliest  and 
most  companionable  men  that  ever  lived.  From  his  earliest  boy- 
hood he  was  distinguished  no  less  for  his  daring  than  for  a subtle 
magnetism,  that  made  him  friends  wherever  he  went. 

To  his  bravery  and  goodfellowship  he  united  a business  talent 
that,  properly  educated,  would  have  made  him  a chief  amongst  mer- 
chants, tradesmen  or  financiers,  It  was  in  connection  with  him,  and 


498 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


owing  greatly  to  his  judgment  and  popularity,  that  Eobert  Camp- 
bell, who  died  in  St.  Louis  some  years  since,  laid  the  foundation  for 
his  large  fortune. 

Campbell’s  connection  with  the  mountain  men  came  about  in 
rather  an  odd  way.  When  a young  man  his  constitution  was  very 
feeble;  in  fact,  he  was  dying  slowly  with  consumption,  when  it  was 
suggested  that  a life  amongst  the  trappers  and  hunters  of  the  upper 
Missouri  might  benefit  him,  and  accordingly  he  was  shipped  up  as 
one  of  Ashley’s  hands  and  for  a time  roughed  it  with  them,  finally 
returning  to  St.  Louis  strong  and  well.  In  this  way  was  formed  his 
connection  with  the  Sublettes  and  others  that  gave  him  such  control 
over  the  Indian  and  the  fur  trade  of  the  West,  and  that  enabled  him 
to  amass  an  immense  fortune.  He  also  became,  in  this  way,  the 
administrator  of  their  estates;  their  money,  papers  and  accounts 
being  generally  left  in  his  hands. 

It  may  not  be  commonly  known,  but  we  are  informed  by  Mr. 
Dowling,  that  the  fortune  of  Hercules  L.  Dausman — also  of  St.  Louis 
— who  counts  his  wealth  by  millions,  was  the  outgrowth  of  the  Indian 
trade.  His  father  was  an  under  clerk  in  the  employ  of  Kolette,  an 
Indian  trader,  and  upon  the  demise  of  his  employer,  Dausman  mar- 
ried the  widow  and  continued  the  business.  Thus  Dausman,  the 
patron  of  the  fine  arts  and  the  luxurious  dweller  in  cities,  is  the  half 
brother  of  Jo  Eolette,  the  chief  man  amongst  the  half-breeds  in  the 
Pembina  settlements. 

It  can  be  easily  seen  that  the  trade,  conducted  by  the  pioneers 
with  the  Indians,  was,  in  its  day,  no  despicable  source  of  wealth. 
Many  and  large  fortunes  were  built  up  by  it,  and  it  was  the  means 
of  opening  up  to  white  occupation  and  settlement  the  glorious 
empire  of  the  West.  Without  the  knowledge  and  the  adventure  of 
these  men,  the  building  of  the  Pacific  railroad  would  have  been 
delayed  for  twenty-five  years  at  the  least,  and  Colorado,  Nevada  and 
the  other  Western  States  would  still  have  been  in  an  embryotic 
condition. 

When  attacked  by  the  Blackfeet  and  forced  to  swim  the  Columbia 
Eiver,  the  ice  w7as  running  heavily,  and  Sublette,  turning  to  aid  one 
of  his  comrades,  was  struck  by  a piece  of  large  size  and  so  stunned 
as  to  become  almost  insensible.  In  this  condition,  with  the  bullets 
and  arrows  of  the  Indians  lashing  the  water  into  a foam  around  him, 
Sublette  managed  to  keep  afloat  until  be  had  recovered  sufficiently 


THE  SUBLETTESo 


499 


to  strike  out  and  reach  the  shore.  Here  he  was  dragged  to  land  by 
his  comrades,  and  in  a short  time  all  were  able  to  proceed  on  their 
way  to  the  post  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  where  they  secured 
guns  and  ammunition.  From  this  point  all  made  their  way  back  to 
the  Great  Salt  Lake  unmolested  and  spent  the  season  trapping  in 
the  neighboring  streams,  having  established  there  a rendezvous  or 
central  camp. 

The  next  spring  Sublette  and  Boudinot  made  their  way  down  to 
the  Black  Hills,  and  by  carefully  secreting  themselves  during  the 
day,  setting  their  traps  at  night  and  taking  them  up  before  day- 
light, they  succeeded  for  some  time,  in  eluding  the  vigilance  of  the 
Cheyennes,  the  tribe  of  Indians  who  claimed  this  region  as  a hunt- 
ing ground.  The  tribal  relations  of  these  Indians  have  never  been 
satisfactorily  decided.  According  to  some  of  the  early  explorers, 
they  were  at  one  time  a large  and  war-like  tribe,  located  on  the  Red 
River  of  the  North,  and  there  known  as  the  Shaways. 

They  say  that  it  required  all  of  the  strength  of  the  Sioux  nations 
to  overcome  them,  but  that  finally  they  were  driven  across  the  Mis- 
souri River  and  settled  in  a fortified  village  on  Warricane  Creek, 
where,  for  a long  time,  they  proved  invincible.  At  last,  however, 
by  combinations  with  other  tribes,  the  Sioux  drove  the  now  small 
fragment  of  the  tribe  into  the  low  range  of  mountains,  called  the 
Black  Hills. 

Thomas  Eddie  and  some  of  the  other  trappers,  think  that  they 
are  a small  band  of  the  Blackfeet — a renegade  tribe,  such  as  is 
known  amongst  several  nations.  They  have  a g;reat  many  of  the 
characteristics  of  the  Blackfeet,  and  like  them,  are  especially  pug- 
nacious, though  they  are  much  braver  than  those  marauders,  and  are 
the  most  desperate  fighters  amongst  all  of  the  plains  Indians. 
According  to  the  first  account,  they  took  the  name  of  Cheyennes 
from  the  river  of  that  name,  in  the  last  range  where  they  had  taken 
refuge.  According  to  Eddie,  however,  they  were  always  known  as 
Cheyennes,  and  the  river  was  named  after  them,  and  not  they  after 
the  river. 

This  last  account  seems  the  most  probable,  though  both  have 
their  objections.  Old  Jo  Jewett — who  had  lived  amongst  the 
Sioux  for  fifty  years,  and  who  was  quite  a medicine  man  amongst 
them — told  me,  and  he  was  corroborated  by  Etay  Nopa,  (Two 
Face),  an  old  Sioux  chief,  that  they  were  originally  called  Mahas, 


500 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


or  Wahkah  Mahas,  and  that  their  tribe  was  something  like  the  family 
of  Levi  amongst  the  Jews;  they  furnishing  medicine  men  to  all  of 
the  tribes  on  the  upper  Missouri. 

According  to  them,  this  tribe,  by  gifts  and  through  the  supersti- 
tious veneration  of  the  other  tribes,  became  quite  powerful,  and 
endeavored  to  impose  not  only  their  priests  and  medicine  men  on 
other  tribes,  but  finally  demanded  that  they  should  also  be  allowed 
to  name  the  ruling  chiefs  of  each  nation.  Striving  to  enforce  this 
assumption  of  authority,  they  were  almost  destroyed  by  the  com- 
bined forces  of  the  other  tribes,  and  fled  to  the  Black  Hills,  where 
they  were  afterward  accorded  the  protection  of  the  Ogalalla  and 
Brule  Sioux.  When  I knew  them,  they  were  certainly  under  the 
protection  of  the  Sioux,  and  were  the  devoted  friends  and  allies  of 
that  tribe. 

They  are  typical  Indians;  slender,  hatchet-faced,  wiry  as  a Bed- 
uoin,  and  fierce  as  a grizzly  bear.  Amongst  them  is  found  an  occa- 
sional one  with  wolf-gray  eyes,  and  brown  hair.  Their  band  of 
dog  soldiers  is  the  most  desperately  brave  of  all  savage  military 
organizations,  and  not  being  encumbered  with  wives  and  the  other 
impediments  of  most  Indians,  they  move  with  great  celerity  and 
make  ideal  light  cavalrymen.  The  divisions  of  their  bands  of  sol- 
diers would  seem  to  class  them  with  the  Arickaras,  or  Omahas  both 
of  these  having  been  accustomed  to  name  their  different  bands  after 
different  animals,  as  the  Dog  Soldier,  the  Wolf  Soldier,  etc. 

Having  become  reckless  of  danger,  from  their  long  immunity 
from  attack,  Sublette  and  Boudinot  determined  to  move  down  on  to 
the  plains  for  a day  or  two,  in  order  to  kill  a buffalo,  as  they 
were  getting  out  of  provisions  and  had  become  tired  of  beaver. 
Accordingly  they  made  their  way  cautiously  down  to  the  feeding 
grounds  of  the  large  herds  of  buffalo,  they  had  seen  from  their 
hiding  place  in  the  hills,  and  were  soon  crawling  toward  a small, 
detached  drove,  which  had  not  observed  them.  When  they  had 
approached  nearly  within  shooting  distance,  they  saw  the  animals 
toss  their  heads  up  and  start  toward  them. 

Looking  anxiously  beyond,  to  see  what  had  caused  the  alarm  of 
the  drove,  they  beheld  a dozen  Indians  just  riding  over  a swell  in 
the  plain,  having  evidently  started  in  pursuit  of  these  buffalos. 
Had  they,  too,  been  seen?  was  now  a question  the  trappers  asked  of 


THE  SUBLETTES. 


501 


each  other.  Presumably  not,  for  instead  of  separating  so  as  to  sur- 
round them  on  all  sides,  the  Cheyennes  rode  straight  at  the  drove, 
and  on  came  both  hunters  and  hunted,  while  the  earth  shook  beneath 
the  thunder  of  their  hoof-beats0  The  two  white  men  crawled  swiftly 


into  a deep,  prairie  draw,  which  fortunately  was  near  them,  and  hid 
themselves  in  the  long  thick  grass. 

Cooped  up  in  their  narrow  quarters,  the  day  passed  slowly  to  the 
impatient  trappers  who,  from  their  hiding  place,  could  see  all  of  the 


502 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


dash  and  excitement  of  an  Indian  buffalo  chase.  Fearful  of  driving 
the  game  from  the  range  by  the  noise  of  their  guns,  they  were  using 
only  their  bows  and  lances,  and  were  having  glorious  sport.  Here 
a gallant  young  bull,  sorely  wounded,  had  made  a stand,  and  an 
eager  brave,  mounted  on  his  buffalo  runner,  was  coolly  sending 
arrow  after  arrow  into  the  infuriated  beast. 

Another  savage,  galloping  along  side  of  a fat  cow,  had  let  fly  an 
arrow,  which,  missing  the  bones  on  each  side,  had  made  its  way 
clear  through  the  noble  animal,  which  was  floundering  in  its  death 
agonies.  Again  an  agile  savage  flew  past  with  his  lance  in  rest, 
looking  for  all  the  world  like  a gallant  medieval  knight,  done  in 
bronze;  and  all  over  the  plain  there  was  life  and  excitement. 

By  night  the  buffaloes  had  all  been  skinned,  and  the  hides  and 
flesh  taken  to  the  .Cheyenne  village  on  ponies.  From  the  carcasses, 
which,  owing  to  their  abundance,  the  savages  had  not  stripped  very 
clean,  the  two  trappers  obtained  a good  supply  of  meat,  and  again 
retired  to  their  hiding  place  in  the  mountain.  For  the  time  they 
had  escaped  all  danger,  as  it  had  not  been  necessary  for  them  to 
fire  a gun. 

Again  they  resumed  their  nocturnal  life  and  this  was  continued 
until  they  got  ready  to  return  to  their  companions.  Caching  their 
peltries,  they  made  their  way  out  of  the  hills  by  night,  and  after 
some  time,  succeeded  in  reaching  the  rendezvous,  having  only  had 
two  brushes  with  small  parties  of  the  Indians;  in  one  of  which 
Boudinot  was  severely  wounded,  but  Sublette  escaped  from  both 
unharmed.  They  had  killed  twTo  of  the  Cheyennes  and  wounded 
several,  before  the  last  band  of  pursuers  gave  up  the  chase.  On 
their  way  over  to  Bear  River,  their  exploits  have  already  been  recor- 
ded, and  with  the  exception  of  their  continual  annoyance  by  marau- 
ding Blackfeet,  on  their  way  back  across  the  mountains,'  nothing  of 
great  importance  happened.  On  their  arrival  at  the  camp  on  the 
Yellowstone,  Sublette  found  that  his  brother,  Milton  Sublette,  had 
come  on  from  St.  Louis,  and  had  joined  Ashley’s  force  of  trappers. 


CHAPTER  XX 


JACKSON,  SUBLETTE  AND  SMITH. 


THE  NEW  FUR  COMPANY ENERGY  OF  ITS  MEMBERS EXTENDED  FIELD 

OF  OPERATIONS PROFITS  OF  THE  INDIAN  TRADE THE  FIRST  WAGON 

TO  CROSS  THE  ROCKIES PRAIRIE  SCHOONERS THE  WHITE  BUFFALO 

AN  OLD  FRIEND  IN  A NEW  GUISE AN  ALBINO  BRUTE GOV- 
ERNMENT TRAINS CHANGE  OF  MOTORS MANIFEST  DESTINY WIL- 
LIAM SUBLETTE'S  DIARY A LIFE  OF  DANGER THIEVING  UTES 

THE  CHASE AT  BAY SUBLETTE’S  FIGHT  WITH  TWO  INDIANS 

KILLS  BOTH SUBLETTE  COVERS  HIS  TRACKS HIS  WORK  ATTRIBU- 
TED TO  THE  SIOUX ON  THE  WAR-PATH SUBLETTE  LEAVES MIL  - 

TON  SUBLETTE A BRAVE  MAN CROW  HORSE-THIEVES THREE  OF 

THEM  KILLED BEGIN  HOSTILITIES FIGHT  WITH  THE  BLACKFEET 

SUBLETTE'S  ANKLE  BROKEN AMPUTATES  HIS  OWN  LEG THE 

OPERATION AN  IMPROMPTU  SURGEON OTHER  ADVENTURES WIL- 
LIAM DIES  IN  PHILADELPHIA DEATH  OF  MILTON  AT  ST.  LOUIS 

SULLIVAN  SUBLETTE GOES  TO  SANTA  FE A NOVEL  VOCATION 

THE  SCALP  BOUNTY A RECKLESS  HERO SEVEN  AGAINST  ONE  HUN- 
DRED AND  FIFTY SULLIVAN  SUBLETTE  AND  ARTHUR  BLACK THEIR 

FIGHT  WITH  BLACKFEET THEIR  FLIGHT BLACK’S  TERRIBLE  WOUND 

RESCUED  BY  SUBLETTE DIES  IN  ST.  LOUIS DEATH  OF  SULLI- 
VAN SUBLETTE. 


In  1830,  Ashley  retired  from  the  fur  trade;  Jackson,  Sublette 
(William)  and  Smith  constituting  the  firm,  which  succeeded  him 
and  Henry.  The  affairs  of  the  new  company  were  pushed  with 
great  energy,  and  a very  large  and  successful  business  was  done  by 
it.  It  was  with  the  money  gained  from  his  share  of  this  business, 
that  Sublette  started  the  business  in  St.  Louis,  that  afterwards  was 
run  under  the  firm  name  of  Robert  and  Hugh  Campbell. 

This  also  proved  a very  remunerative  venture,  though  it  has  been 
asserted  that  Sublette’s  portion  of  the  profits  very  mysteriously  dis- 
appeared. It  is  stated,  by  some  of  Sublette’s  old  associates,  that 
his  relatives,  who  came  from  Kentucky  after  his  decease,  to  inves- 
tigate his  affairs,  returned  greatly  dissatisfied  with  the  management 
of  his  administrator. 

From  the  Yellowstone  the  trappers  of  the  new  firm  pushed  out  in 
all  directions;  the  partners  accompanying  the  various  parties  in 
their  expeditions.  William  Sublette  was  the  first  man  who  ever 
crossed  a wagon  over  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  his  frail  through 

503 


504 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


South  Pass  was  for  a long  time  followed  by  all  subsequent  teams. 
These  wagons  were  loaded  with  goods  for  the  Indian  trade,  and  thus 
Sublette  pioneered  the  route  for  the  innumerable  trains  of  prairie 
schooners,  that  years  afterward  followed  in  his  wake  and  carried 
their  rich  freights  across  the  immense  sea  of  sand  that  lay  between 
the  Missouri  River  and  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

Crossing  these  gigantic  barriers,  other  stretches  of  this  sand}* 
ocean  lay  before  the  wheeled  craft,  that  sailed  along  under  the  propel 
ling  power  of  cattle  or  mules.  From  the  cattle  of  these  early  4 ‘pil- 
grims,” the  Indians  got  their  idea  of  the  white  buffalo,  and  the  tra- 
dition soon  spread  from  savage  to  trapper,  hunter  and  trader,  whG 
did  not  recognize,  in  the  highly  colored  picture,  the  features  of  their 
familiar  teams. 

At  least  one  white  buffalo,  however,  did  exist,  for  I have  seen  it , 
and  at  the  present  day  it  stands,  or  did  stand,  by  the  art  of  the  tax- 
idermist, in  a gun-store  in  Denver.  It  was  one  of  those  freaks  oi 
nature,  an  albino;  just  as  there  are  albino  negroes;  albino  cocksv 
amongst  the  black  jungle-fowl  of  Africa;  and  albino  goats,  amongst 
the  sable  flocks  of  Astrachan  goats ; but  the  white  buffalo  of  the 
Indian  was  undoubtedly  the  ox,  or  steer  of  the  Western  white 
man. 

Sublette’s  wagon  venture  paid,  and  soon  others  followed  his 
example  and  it  was  not  long  until  this  instrument  of  civilization 
became  a common  sight  upon  the  plains.  The  government  discarded 
the  pack-mule,  and  the  aparejo,  and  wagoned  its  freight  to  its  fron- 
tier posts.  The  restless  immigrant  followed  the  government  train, 
and  the  ruts  along  the  Platte  and  other  streams  grew  deeper.  The 
Indian  beheld  destiny  sweeping  down  upon  him,  in  the  slow  tread 
of  these  mild-eyed  oxen,  and  he  began  to  war  upon  the  passing 
teams. 

Too  late;  the  wedge  once  entered,  the  sturdiest  oak  must  yield, 
and  the  stream  had  now  begun,  that  was  soon  to  become  a sea.  If 
his  journey  proved  disastrous  by  day,  the  instrument  of  the  politi- 
cian’s “manifest  destiny”  pressed  steadily  on  beneath  the  clear 
light  of  the  glittering  stars,  defrauding  the  lurking  savage  of  his 
victim,  and  fulfilling  the  handwriting  on  the  wall,  that  said  in  thun- 
der tones,  the  Indian  had  served  his  purpose  and  must  go. 

One  of  the  diaries  of  William  Sublette,  presented  to  me  by  Mr. 
Eddie,  shows  the  terrible  fatigues  and  dangers  incident  to  the  life 


JACKSOtf,  SUBLETTE  AND  SMITH. 


505 


of  the  trapper  of  that  day,  and  it  also  shows  the  modest  character 
of  the  man,  who  even  in  his  private  memoranda,  takes  pride  in 
bestowing  encomiums  upon  others,  but  has'  nothing  of  laudation  for 
himself. 

On  one  of  his  expeditions,  Sublette  had  gone  out  alone,  to  'ook 


for  some  horses  that  had  strayed,  and  came  across  two  Indians  on 
foot,  driving  them  off.  One  of  the  savages  had  just  succeeded  in 
catching  a horse  as  Sublette  came  up,  and  mounting  it,  he  hurried 
the  others  off  as  rapidly  as  possible* 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


50(3 

Not  wishing  to  kill  the  thieves — as  he  had  but  a few  men  with 
him,  and  desired  to  remain  long  enough  to  make  the  trade — Sub- 
lette, who  was  a very  swift  runner,  made  chase  after  the  one  who 
was  still  afoot,  and  who  was  endeavoring  to  reach  the  mountains.  As 
he  overtook  the  Indian,  the  latter  turned  and  stood  at  bay,  drawing 
his  knife.  This,  by  a dexterous  sweep  of  his  tomahawk,  Sublette 
sent  flying  into  the  air,  and  he  then  grappled  with  the  savage, 
intending  to  throw  him.  He  hoped  that  the  other  one  would  come  to 
his  comrade’s  aid,  as  then,  with  a show  of  his  pistols,  he  thought 
that  he  could  recover  his  horses.  The  savage  was  exceptionally 
strong  and  active,  and  proved  more  nearly  a match  for  Sublette 
than  the  latter  had  supposed,  and  in  the  midst  of  his  long  and  excit- 
ing struggle,  he  saw  the  other  Indian  coming  swiftly  up,  rifle  in 
hand. 

It  became  evident  to  him  now  that  he  must  succeed  in  killing: 
both  of  the  savages,  if  he  would  save  his  own  life,  and  his  plans 
were  made  in  a moment.  Holding  the  nearly  exhausted  Indian 
close  to  him,  and  between  him  and  his  mounted  comrade,  Sublette 
succeeded  in  drawing  one  of  his  pistols  and  as  the  Indian  on  horse- 
back dashed  up — afraid  to  risk  a shot  from  a distance,  for  fear  of 
killing  his  companion— the  trapper  fired,  and  he  dropped  from  his 
horse. 

With  the  butt  of  his  pistol  he  began  striking  the  other  Indian 
about  the  head  and  face  and  soon  laid  him  insensible  on  the  ground. 
Sublette  hated  to  kill  his  foe,  while  thus  at  his  mercy,  but  his  own 
safety  depended  upon  it,  and  cleaving  his  skull  with  the  tomahawk, 
he  scalped  him,  and  then  cut  his  throat  from  ear  to  ear,  thus  placing 
upon  him  the  Sioux  mark.  He  had  hardly  finished  this  last  opera- 
tion, when  he  heard  the  report  of  a rifle  and  felt  a sharp  pain  in  his 
left  side. 

Looking  hastily  around  to  discover  his  new  enemy,  no  one  was  in 
sight,  but  a glance  at  the  first  savage  showed  from  whence  came 
the  shot.  This  one  had  only  been  stunned  by  the  pistol  bullet,  and 
had  now  entirely  recovered  his  faculties,  and  was  searching  for  some 
weapon  with  which  to  renew  the  combat,  since  his  shot  had  not 
proved  fatal. 

Before  he  had , succeeded  in  his  search,  Sublette  dashed  at  him 
with  the  fierceness  of  a panther  and  brained  him,  not  even  giving 
him  time  to  utter  his  death  whoop.  He  was  now  served  in  the  same 


JACKSON,  SUBLETTE  AND  SMITH 


507 


manner  as  his  comrade,  and  mounting  the  haltered  horse,  Sublette 
rode  on  some  distance,  and  then  entering  the  stream  which  led  to  his 
camp,  he  rode  carefully  along  in  its  current,  destroying  all  trace  of 
his  course.  By  his  action  he  felt  satisfied  that  the  impression  of 
the  Utes  would  be  that  their  comrades  had  been  killed  by  a party  of 
Sioux,  with  whom  they  were  continually  at  war.  It  was  some  days 
before  the  bodies  were  discovered,  and  then  the  Utes  raised  a terri- 
ble noise  about  it. 


WILLIAM  SUBLETTE’S  COMBAT  WITH  THE  TWO  UTES. 


Gathering  all  the  Sioux  and  Arapaho  scalps  which  they  had  ever 
taken,  they  danced  around  them  furiously  for  two  or  three  days  and 
nights,  and  having  worked  themselves  up  to  the  proper  state  of 
frenzy,  they  traded  for  a large  supply  of  ammunition,  and  a war 
party  descended  into  the  plains  to  waylay  any  passing  enemy,  who'8' 
might  chance  to  come  along,  and  thus  obtain  revenge  for  their  dead 
comrades.  As  soon  as  they  were  gone,  Sublette  announced  the 


508 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


trade  closed,  made  the  usual  banquet  of  feast  cakes,  (slap  jacks), 
and  departed. 

MILTON  SUBLETTE. 

As  before  stated,  all  of  the  Sublette  brothers  were  trappers,  and 
the  adventures  of  each  one  of  them  would  fill  volumes.  Milton 
Sublette  was  one  of  the  most  courageous  men  that  ever  lived,  and 
his  valor  was  always  at  fever  heat.  The  more  desperate  the  mis- 
sion, the  more  it  was  to  his  taste,  and  he  delighted  in  the  unequal 
combat,  where  the  bull  dog  pluck  and  undying  energy  of  the  Anglo- 
Norman  was  pitted  against  the  overpowering  numbers  of  the  savage. 

On  the  upper  Missouri  the  Crows,  who  were  at  first  friendly  to 
the  whites,  began  to  steal  the  horses  of  the  trappers,  and  coming 
single-handed  upon  three  of  the  robbers,  Milton  Sublette  killed 
every  one  of  them,  receiving  in  the  fight  several  serious  wounds. 
For  awhile  this  affair  caused  Tie  Crows  to  become  hostile,  but  they 
soon  found  that  they  needed  the  trade  and  assistance  of  the  white 
men,  in  their  battles  with  the  Blackfeet,  and  they  again  became 
friendly. 

It  was  Milton  Sublette  who  performed  an  act  of  heroism,  never 
but  once  equalled.  Up  toward  the  Medicine  Bow  Mountains,  a 
party  of  trappers  had  been  surrounded  by  hundreds  of  Blackfeet, 
and  had  cut  their  way  through,  fighting  and  retreating  day  and  night. 
Almost  perishing  for  want  of  food,  water  and  sleep,  the  trappers 
fought  like  lions.  Time  after  time  they  were  surrounded,  but 
marching  steadily  on,  they  broke  through  the  circling  lines  of  their 
enemies  and  at  last  reached  the  hills  of  the  Yellowstone,  where  the 
savages  fired  a parting  volley  and  left  them.  That  last  shot  proved 
an  unlucky  one  for  Sublette,  as  one  of  the  trade  balls — a solid  ounce 
of  lead — from  an  Indian  rifle,  struck  him  in  the  ankle,  and  tore  its 
way  through  flesh  and  bone,  tendon  and  artery. 

It  was  a terrible  wound,  even  were  the  table  of  the  surgeon  handy 
with  its  glittering  blades  and  its  polished  saws,  its  silks  for  binding 
spouting  arteries,  its  styptics  for  staunching  flowing  blood;  what, 
then,  must  it  have  been  upon  the  far-off  frontier,  where  never  a 
surgeon  penetrated  at  that  day,  and  where  chloroform  and  cerates 
were  unknown  words.  But  the  leg  must  be  amputated,  or  the  man 
must  die.  It  was  done.  In  the  party  were  an  abundance  of  beaver 
knives  and  the  edge  of  one  was  hacked  into  a saw,  while  another 


JACKSON,  SUBLETTE  AND  SMITH. 


509 


was  sharpened  to  its  keenest  edge,  and  with  these  rude  implements 
Sublette,  the  impromptu  surgeon,  amputated  his  own  leg. 

The  plates  of  several  beaver  traps,  heated  red-hot,  were  applied 
to  the  raw  and  bleeding  stump,  and  charring  vein  and  artery,  stopped 
the  ebbing  of  life’s  crimson  elixir  and  the  trapper  was  saved. 
Slung  between  two  horses,  in  a strong  Mackinaw  blanket,  he  was 
taken  to  the  Missouri ; his  wound  dressed  daily  with  the  fresh  excre- 
ment of  horses.  On  his  arrival  at  St.  Louis  he  submitted  to  another 
amputation,  in  order  to  secure  a better  stump,  and  soon  afterward 
was  back  on  the  plains  and  in  the  mountains,  following  his  old  avo- 
cation with  as  great  gusto  as  ever. 

Of  one  of  Milton  Sublette’s  desperate  Indian  fights  beyond  the 
Arkansas,  just  fifty-five  years  ago,  William  Waldo,  an  old  moun- 
taineer, says,  that  with  six  other  men  he  beat  off  a force  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  Comanche  Indians,  who  were  attacking  them  from 
all  sides.  Amongst  the  seven  men  was  Governor  Marmaduke,  at 
that  time  an  Indian  trader.  The  odds  were  tremendous  and  the 
combat  terrific,  but  Sublette  succeeded  in  repelling  the  savages  with 
heavy  loss. 

It  wTas  upon  this  route  and  shortly  before  this  occurrence  that 
William  Sublette  and  a party,  amongst  whom  was  Governor  Mar- 
maduke, fired  upon  some  Indians  that  they  had  every  reason  to 
suspect  of  having  murdered  some  of  their  men,  and  it  was  this 
attack  that  had  caused  the  Indians  to  assemble  in  large  numbers  for 
the  war-path  and  attack  Milton  Sublette’s  party,  with  which  Mar- 
maduke had  started  back,  on  his  return  to  Missouri. 

William  Sublette  died  in  Philadelphia,  of  consumption,  passing 
peacefully  away,  after  a life  of  the  most  intense  excitement  and 
innumerable  perils.  Milton  also  died  of  this  disease.  At  the  time 
of  his  decease  William  Sublette  was  the  owner  of  Cheltenham,  now 
an  important  suburb  of  St.  Louis. 

SULLIVAN  SUBLETTE. 

Sullivan  Sublette,  another  cf  these  adventurous  brothers,  fol- 
lowed the  life  of  a trapper  for  a long  time,  and  then  made  his  way 
to  Santa  Fe,  where  he  engaged  in  the  more  perilous,  but  also  more 
congenial  business  of  hunting  the  plains  Indians  for  the  bounty 
offered  by  the  New  Mexican  government  for  their  scalps.  In  this 
pursuit — which  to  him  united  the  pleasure  of  the  grandest  sport 


510 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


with  the  business  of  making  a living — he  succeeded  admirably,  and 
at  various  times  accumulated  large  sums  of  money,  which  were  soon 
squandered  in  the  mode  common  to  all  of  his  comrades. 

In  one  of  his  expeditions,  on  the  Missouri,  he  was  accompanied 
by  several  comrades,  amongst  them  Arthur  Black,  a brave  young 
fellow,  and  an  intimate  friend  of  the  Sublettes.  In  a fight  with  the 
Blackfeet,  they  were  greatly  outnumbered  and  forced  to  fly  toward 
the  camp,  where  they  had  left  their  comrades. 

The  Indians  fought  with  more  than  usual  boldness,  making  sev- 
eral gallant  charges,  all  of  which  were  checked  by  the  trappers.  In 
the  most  desperate  of  these,  however,  a gigantic  Blackfoot  charged 
up  to  the  line  and  inflicted  a terrible  wound  upon  Arthur  Black 
with  the  Y-shaped  blade  of  his  heavy  war-club.  Black  was  felled  to 
the  earth,  but  before  the  savage  could  strike  another  blow,  Sublette 
had  darted  up  to  the  relief  of  his  friend  and  with  a terrible  whirl  of 
his  tomahawk,  split  open  the  skull  of  the  warrior.  The  fall  of  this 
brave,  who  was  their  chief,  dispirited  his  followers  and  the  trappers 
retreated  without  further  molestation,  bearing  along  Black,  who  was 
still  insensible. 

Arriving  at  the  camp,  Sublette  saw  that  the  wound  of  his  friend 
was  desperate  and  accordingly  he  was  sent  down  the  river  to 
St.  Louis,  for  medical  treatment.  On  the  way  down,  liberal  appli- 
cations of  cold  water  were  made  to  his  wound,  and  when  they  landed 
at  St.  Louis,  he  was  taken  to  the  Green  Tree  Tavern,  the  favorite 
stopping  place  of  the  trappers.  Here  he  met  with  the  kindest  atten- 
tion and  the  tenderest  care,  but  all  was  of  no  avail. 

The  blow  of  the  Blackfoot  proved  fatal,  and  at  a distance  of  hun- 
dreds of  miles  from  the  point  at  which  it  was  received,  young 
Arthur  Black  died,  and  is  now  sleeping  on  one  of  the  bluffs  of  the 
Mound  City,  if  the  march  of  improvement  has  not  scatted  his  dust 
to  the  four  winds  of  heaven.  His  friend  and  comrade,  Sullivan 
Sublette,  escaped  the  weapons  of  the  savages  and  died  in  his  bed,  in 
St.  Louis,  a victim  to  consumption;  the  foe  of  all  his  family. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


ASHLEY,  HENRY  AND  OTHERS. 


POLITICAL  HONORS JACK  MORROW SAM  MACHETTE WILL  KIRBY 

BILL  GAW LEO  PALLARDY THE  HOUSTONS RAYMOND HUNTER 

CAVENDER HANK  CLIFFORD MORROW’S  CAREER NOT  ABOVE 

SUSPICION THE  CHEYENNE  WAR HORRIBLE  BARBARITY OLD  BOB 

CARSON THE  CAPTURED  TEAM A FATE  WORSE  THAN  DEATH INDIAN 

STOICISM POKER  PLAYING  COMMITTEES JACKSON ASHLEY 

HENRY BISSONETTE GODEY THEIR  DEATHS FITZPATRICK 

ANECDOTES JAMES  LITTLE THE  DINNER AN  IRATE  IRISHMAN 

FITZPATRICK’S  SQUAW HIS  DEATH LEROUX LISA’S  WIFE FON- 

TENELLE OLD  JO  JEWETT OHIO  PATTI MYSTERIOUS  DEATH WIL- 
LIAM WALDO HIS  DEATH THE  LAST  LINK. 


Two  of  Missouri’s  governors  had  been  Indian  traders  and  fur  deal- 
ers; one  of  her  trappers  was  a member  of  Congress.  Others  of 
these  hardy  men — seeking,  after  a long  time,  the  pleasures  or  the 
ease  of  civilization — have  settled  down  to  various  avocations,  totally 
at  variance  with  their  former  lives.  I often  reflect  with  wonder 
over  the  later  careers  of  men  whom  I knew  on  the  plains,  or  in  the 
mountains,  as  traders,  trappers  and  hunters. 

Jack  Morrow,  leaving  his  famous  ranche  at  the  junction  of  the 
two  Plattes,  settled  in  a luxurious  home  in  Omaha,  and  became  a 
railroad  and  government  contractor,  and  general  speculator. 

Sam  Machette,  a pioneer  of  the  mountain  region,  travels  for  a 
wholesale  liquor  house  in  Kansas  City. 

Will  Kirby,  (“Billy  Kit”  to  intimate  friends,) — at  one  time  the 
best  interpreter,  and  Indian  sign-talker,  between  the  Missouri 
River  and  the  salt  waters  of  the  Pacific, — genial,  whole-souled  and 
honorable,  one  of  nature’s  noblemen,  is  now  cashier  of  a bank,  in 
the  little  town  of  Huntsville,  Missouri. 

Bill  Gaw,  a better  hunter,  trailer  and  shot,  than  all  of  the  much 
advertised  Wild  Bills  and  Kansas  Charlies — who,  following  in  the 
wake  of  civilization,  have  gained  a cheap  notoriety,  through  the 
efforts  of  Ned  Buntline  and  others  of  that  ilk — is  now  a hunter 
from  Antelope  Station,  Nebraska.  His  adventures  have  been  ten 

511 


512 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


times  as  numerous,  and  a hundred  times  as  real,  as  those  of  the  mei; 
just  alluded  to. 

Leo  Pallardy,  trapper,  hunter  and  guide,  is  now  at  one  of  the 
upper  Missouri  Eiver  agencies. 

The  Houstons  are  on  a fine  ranche,  somewhere  on  the  North 
Platte. 

John  Horner  is  in  business  in  Kansas  City. 

Old  Bob  Williams  was  killed,  on  a lonely  scout  after  the  hostile 
Cheyennes,  about  the  year  1865. 

Raymond,  Hunter,  Cavender  and  Hank  Clifford,  prairie  men, 
are,  or  were,  not  long  since,  at  the  Red  Cloud  agency. 

George  Knox  is  also  at  one  of  the  agencies. 

Jack  Morrow’s  career  on  the  plains  was  rather  singular.  Going 
out  as  a government  teamster,  he  began  to  accumulate  money,  as 
he  said,  by  tapping  his  freights,  though  this  may  have  been  the 
mere  bravado  of  a man  who  cared  nothing  for  the  opinion  of  the 
world.  At  any  rate,  his  possessions  grew  apace,  and  he  entered 
into  a partnership  with  old  Constant,  a Frenchman,  at  Dog  Town, 
near  Fort  Kearney,  on  the  Platte.  After  a while  he  left  the  place, 
old  Constant  swearing  he  had  been  robbed.  He  next  started  his 
famous  ranche  at  the  Platte  Junction,  two  and  a half  stories  high, 
and  built  of  and  roofed  with  cedar,  and  here  he  waxed  rapidly  rich. 

It  was  current  report  amongst  the  pilgrims,  that  Jack  kept  a lot 
of  Indians  to  stampede  their  stock,  and,  after  they  had  passed  on, 
to  bring  it  in  from  the  sand-hills,  and  turn  it  into  his  drove.  What- 
ever  may  have  been  the  case  prior  to  the  entry  of  Hugh  Morgan 
into  partnership  with  him,  the  latter  gentleman  had  nothing  to  do 
with  any  nefarious  modes  of  making  money,  but  lending  to  the  firm 
his  mercantile  experience  and  business  ability,  they  soon  became 
very  wealthy. 

In  1864,  the  Cheyenne  war  came  on,  and  all  of  the  Sioux,  except 
a portion  of  the  Ogalallahs,  were  drawn  into  it.  These  Indians 
came  into  the  Junction  ranche,  where  all  of  the  ranchmen  had 
assembled  and  fortified,  and  here,  for  a long  time,  we  held  open 
the  line  of  communication  along  the  Platte.  Numbers  of  the 
ranches  had  been  attacked.  Moore  and  Kelly’s  above  us,  was 
attacked  one  night  and  all  of  the  stage  stock  stolen.  Old  Bob 
Carson,  an  uncle  of  Kit’s,  was  killed  below  us.  The  Indians  were 
everywhere  committing  terrible  atrocities, 


ASHLEY,  HENRY  AND  OTHERS. 


513 


A few  miles  from  us,  a solitary  team,  hastening  to  reach  our 
defenses,  was  waylaid  and  captured  by  nine  Indians.  It  contained 
a man  and  his  wife.  The  wagon  was  driven  to  the  sand-hills,  where 
we  found  it.  The  man  had  been  stripped  and,  still  living,  hung 
by  his  feet  to  the  hindmost  bow  of  his  wagon.  The  clothes  were 
then  torn  from  his  wife  and  in  plain  view,  and  not  a dozen  feet 
from  him,  she  was  outraged  in  turn  by  each  of  these  demons,  and 
then  her  insensible  body  pinned  to  the  earth  with  dozens  of  their 
arrows. 

The  man  was  next  killed,  and  his  corpse  terribly  mutilated.  All 
this  by  the  noble,  magnanimous  savage,  who,  according  to  the 
eastern  novelist,  is  a being  of  rare  bravery,  virtue  and  magnanimity. 
Such  was  the  not  uncommon  work  of  the  fiend  known  to  readers 
of  fiction  as  “the  noble  red  man,”  wise,  temperate  and  brave. 

As  a counterpart  to  this  fancy  sketch  of  the  graceful  writers,  who 
have  exalted  this  beastly  vagrant  to  so  high  a nich  in  the  scale  of 
humanity,  we  desire  to  add  to  our  life-like  picture  gallery  another 
and  truer  delineation.  This  may  be  relied  on  as  the  genuine  article 
and  will  be  readily  recognized  as  such  by  any  one  at  all  familiar 
with  this  specimen  of  the  genus  Homo. 

Every  few  days  some  of  our  scouting  parties  were  called  to  the 
relief  of  small  trains  or  lonely  ranches. 

During  our  holding  of  this  ranche,  an  incident  occurred,  that 
goes  far  to  prove  the  stoicism  of  the  savage,  though  it  does  not  in 
the  slightest  prove  his  superiority  over  the  white  man,  in  the 
endurance  of  suffering.  There  had  been  a fight  one  morning  at 
Turgeon’s  ranche,  just  below  O’ Fallon’s  Bluffs,  and  about  a hundred 
freighters  had  succeeded  in  defeating  several  hundred  Indians. 

That  afternoon,  there  of  the  attacking  party,  though  at  the  time 
unknown  to  us,  rode  up  to  our  fortification  and  held  a long  con- 
versation with  their  Ogalalla  friends,  who  were  encamped  with  us. 
After  a half  hour  of  jovial  converse,  the  three  rode  off,  and  when 
they  had  disappeared  over  the  sand-hills,  toward  the  Republican 
River,  one  of  the  Ogalallas  informed  us  that  the  largest  and  jolliest 
of  the  three  had  had  his  leg  broken  by  a rifle  bullet,  at  Turgeon’s, 
that  morning. 

After  leaving  his  ranche,  Jack  went  to  Omaha  and  for  a time 
lived  there  in  grand  style.  Here,  at  first,  he  rapidly  increased  in 


514 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


wealth  by  taking  contracts  and  playing  poker  with  visiting  Congress- 
men. He  is  reported,  in  one  night  to  have  won  sixty  thousand 
dollars  from  a committee,  the  members  of  which  were  out  to  exam- 
ine into  Pacific  railroad  matters.  At  another  time,  rumor  had  it 
that  he  made  fully  as  much  by  a swindling  contract — to  furnish  ties 
and  timber  to  the  railroad.  These  events  were  immensely  exag- 
gerated, no  doubt,  and  probably  by  no  one  more  greatly  than  by 


THE  INDIAN  OF  THE  NOVELIST. 


himself,  for  if  a rogue,  Jack  at  least  had  the  merit  of  being  a bold 
one. 

Jack’s  bravery  was  of  the  doubtful  stamp  and  amongst  fighting 
men  he  was  regarded  more  as  a bluffer  than  a truly  brave  man ; but  in 
his  fight  with  Murphy,  an  Irish  desperado,  he  stood  up  like  a man, 
and  killed  his  opponent.  Jack  died  a few  years  since,  in  Omaha, 
his  constitution  enfeebled  by  prolonged  debauches.  In  generosity 


ASHLEY,  HENRY  AND  OTHERS. 


515 


he  was  unbounded,  and  his  liberality  and  lavish  expenditure  had,  at 
the  time  of  his  death,  greatly  wasted  his  once  large  fortune. 

In  person  he  was  rather  slight,  with  light  hair  and  brown  eyes, 
and  of  medium  height.  He  was  noted  as  a hard  rider  and  driver, 
and  once  drove  two  Indian  horses  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  in 
a day.  Mounted  upon  his  swift  racer,  of  true  Kentucky  blue-grass 
blood,  he  was  a model  cavalier  and  under  the  influence  of  a gener- 
ous impulse,  would  go  far  to  aid  a friend. 


THE  GENUINE  ARTICLE. 


Jackson,  the  senior  partner  of  Jackson,  Sublette  and  Smith, 
after  a life  of  unusual  excitement,  qassed  quietly  away  in  his  bed, 
surrounded  by  friends. 

Ashley  died  in  St.  Louis. 

Henry,  who  had  become  a member  of  Congress,  also,  after  innum- 
erable adventures  and  narrow  escapes,  died  in  St.  Louis.  He  was  a 
man  of  unusual  daring  and  determination,  and  at  one  time,  when 
iurrounded  by  Blackfeet,  calmly  walked  toward  them,  and  opened 


516 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


the  way  without  firing  a shot,  the  savages  retreating  before  the  terri- 
ble glance  of  the  desperate  trader. 

Joseph  Bissonette  died^on  the  plains,  and  not  very  long  since. 

Godey — who,  with  Kit  Carson,  pursued  a band  of  twenty  Indians 
for  two  hundred  miles,  and  overtaking,  routed  them  and  recovered 
the  stock  they  had  stolen — after  a thousand  desperate  exploits,  died 
in  California. 


JACK  MORROW. 


Fitzpatrick — who  was  with  Ashley  and  Henry,  and  afterwards 
with  Jackson,  Sublette  and  Smith — was  a man  of  education.  Brave 
as  a lion,  and  of  cool  judgment,  he  was  one  of  the  fourteen  men 
selected  to  go  ahead  of  the  main  body,  and  make  their  way  first  to 
the  Yellowstone,  and  then  to  the  Columbia.  He  was  with  and  of 
the  first  white  men  who  ever  saw  the  Great  Salt  Lake. 

He  it  was, who  was  wounded  in  the  thigh  by  the  accidental  discharge 
of  a rifle,  when  the  trappers  were  forced  to  swim  the  Columbia, 


ASHLEY,  HENRY  AND  OTHERS 


517 


thick  with  running  ice.  He  was  an  active,  medium-sized  Irish- 
man, and  after  1829,  was  engaged  with  Jackson,  Smith  and  Sub- 
lette for  a long  time.  Like  so  many  of  his  comrades,  he  gave  way 
to  the  blandishments  of  an  Indian  Delilah,  and  became  a prairie  man. 
When  in  the  government  employ,  he  was  very  imperious  and 
arbitrary. 

Mr.  James  Little,  of  St.  Louis,  one  of  the  kindest  hearted  of 
men,  told  me  of  an  instance  of  Fitzpatrick’s  pride,  which  occurred  at 
Fort  Laramie,  or  as  it  was  formerly  called  Fort  John — having  been 


PATTI’S  PARTY  DIGGING  FOR  WATER. 


a post  of  the  American  Fur  Company,  before  passing  into  the  hands 
of  the  government.  Mr.  Little,  then  a very  young  man,  had  made 
a pleasure  trip  across  the  plains  to  Laramie,  and  was  resting  there 
for  a short  time,  preparatory  to  a return  to  St.  Louis.  Hearing  that 
Fitzpatrick — with  whom  he  was  well  acquainted — was  encamped 
above  Laramie  a short  distance,  he  sent  a messenger  to  invite  him 
to  take  dinner  with  him,  and  used  every  exertion  to  make  the  din- 
ner a success. 


518 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Before  the  arrival  of  Fitzpatrick,  Mr.  Little  met  a young  fellow 
whom  he  had  known  in  St.  Louis,  and  who,  though  well  raised  and 
educated,  had,  through  some  reverse,  been  obliged  to  take  service 
with  Fitzpatrick,  as  an  ordinary  hand.  While  they  were  waiting 
for  the  announcement  of  dinner,  Fitzpatrick  arrived  and  looked  at 
the  young  man  with  a very  angry  air. 

“Cruse,”  he  thundered  out,  “what  are  you  doing  here?”  To 
this  Cruse  explained  that  he  had  secured  permission  to  pay  a visit 
to  Mr.  Little.  “Cruse,”  again  said  Fitzpatrick,  in  a tragic  voice, 
that  the  young  fellow  did  not  feel  like  gainsaying,  “Cruse,  camp  is 
the  place  for  you,  sir,  camp  is  the  place  for  you  !”  Cruse  turned, 
crestfallen,  toward  the  camp,  and  Mr.  Little  began  to  lecture  the 
irate  Irishman  mildly  upon  his  conduct. 

ITe  told  him  that  while  it  was  in  his  power  to  obtain  a good  din- 
ner every  day,  if  he  desired,  that  to  poor  Cruse  it  would  be  a treat 
and  he  also  informed  him  that  Cruse,  though  obliged  to  labor,  had 
been  raised  as  a gentleman.  “I  can’t  help  it,  Little,  I can’t  help 
it,”  said  the  Irishman,  and  so  excited  had  he  become  by  his  own 
violent  temper,  that  he  was  unable  to  eat  a mouthful. 

Fitzpatrick  took  the  smallpox  on  the  plains  and  on  his  arrival  at 
Independence,  was  for  a long  time  dangerously  ill.  He  endeavored 
to  keep  his  sickness  a secret  from  his  Indian  wife,  but  she  heard  of 
it,  and  started  to  Independence.  Receiving  word  that  she  was  on 
the  way  to  visit  him,  Fitzpatrick,  who  was  rather  ashamed  of  his 
tawny  spouse,  started  for  St.  Louis  while  it  was  still  imprudent  for 
him  to  leave  his  room.  At  St.  Louis  he  heard  that  his  wife  was 
again  upon  his  trail,  and  he  left  for  Washington  City,  where  his 
business  as  Indian  agent  called  him. 

Here  his  imprudence  proved  fatal,  for,  taking  a relapse,  he  died 
at  that  place,  and  thus  added  another  to  the  long  list  of  trappers 
and  hunters  that,  escaping  death  from  savage  ambush  and  all  the 
dangers  common  to  the  border,  died  in  their  beds  like  quiet  citizens, 
or  peaceful  farmers. 

The  seven  men  who  went  to  Santa  Fe  for  ammunition,  and  were 
never  afterward  heard  of,  and  the  large  number  killed  and  drowned 
at  the  Arickara  village,  in  their  first  light,  were  the  most  compre- 
hensive disasters  that  ever  befell  these  hardy  pioneers.  Though 
exposed  to  great  hardships  and  privations,  none  of  them  were  ever 
sick  a single  day. 


ASHLEY,  HENRY  AND  OTHERS. 


519 


Leroux  perished  during  a snow  storm  on  the  plains.  He  was  a 
very  old  man  at  the  date  of  his  death. 

Manuel  Lisa  had  his  first  wife,  a beautiful  woman,  poisoned  by  a 
jealous  squaw. 

Fontenelle  died  in  the  same  manner. 

One  of  the  Jacksons  died  in  his  bed,  at  Ste.  Genevieve,  Missouri. 

Old  Jo  Jewett,  who  had  become  more  Indian  than  white  man, 
died  amongst  the  Ogalallas,  one  of  whose  women  was  his  wife. 

Ohio  Patti,  who  crossed  into  California  with  a party,  when  he  was 
a mere  boy,  was  imprisoned  there  by  the  Spanish.  All  of  the  party 
had  suffered  horribly  on  their  journey  from  hunger  and  thirst,  and 
reaching  San  Diego,  mere  skeletons,  were  thrown  into  prison  by  the 
Spaniards,  and  here  seven  of  them  died.  Leaving  the  camp  of 
William  Waldo,  in  the  Sierra  Nevada  Mountains,  in  the  terrible 
winter  of  1849-50,  Ohio  Patti,  who  had  already  endured  so  much, 
was  never  heard  of  again.  Whether  he  perished  at  the  hands  of 
the  Indians,  or  by  the  merciless  snows,  will  ever  remain  a mystery. 

William  Waldo,  a venerable  old  gentleman,  well  up  into  the  sev- 
enties, but  with  a finely  preserved  mind  and  body,  delivered  an 
address  before  the  “Historical  Society  of  St.  Louis”  in  1880,  but 
has  since  died  at  his  home  in  Texas. 

To-day,  all  of  these  heroic  men,  save  Thomas  Eddie,  have  passed 
away ; he  forms  the  only  link  that  binds  this  generation  with  that 
which,  on  the  plains  and  in  the  mountains,  opened  the  way  to  com- 
merce and  civilization. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


THE  MORMONS. 


THEIR  BEASTLY  SENSUALITY UNDENIABLE  INDUSTRY THEIR  RELIGION 

BARE-FACED  FRAUDS IGNORANT  CONVERTS JOE  SMITH A THIEVING 

WELL-DIGGER “THE  MANUSCRIPT  FOUND” SPAULDING’S  NOVEL 

STOLEN  BY  SMITH USES  IT  AS  HIS  BIBLE EXAMPLES THIEVES  AND 

THUGS HORRIBLE  RITES LUST  AND  MURDER HOW  THE  CHURCH 

WAS  FORMED REVELATIONS JOHN  THE  BAPTIST SMITH’S  BANK 

THE  PERMANENT  ZION WAX  RICH  AND  NUMEROUS ENRAGED  MIS- 
SOURIANS  DRIVE  OUT  THE  MORMONS NAUVOO,  ILLINOIS THEIR 

POWER CRIMES THE  ILLINOISANS  RISE  AGAINST  THEM DEATH  OF 

JOSEPH  AND  BYRUM  SMITH FLIGHT  TO  NEBRASKA BRIGHAM  YOUNG 

THE  NEW  LEADER A NEW  ZION THEDANITES FIRST  ORGANIZED 

MORMON  SYSTEM  OF  MURDER THEIR  TOOLS FILLMORE’S  FOLLY 

JOHN  D.  LEE’S  ACCOMPLICES  IN  MURDER A TERRIBLE  DEED. 


With  characteristic  American  impulsiveness  we  are  certain  to  go 
to  extremes  in  everything  we  undertake,  and  in  judging  this  abnor- 
mal civilization  in  our  midst,  we  have  all  blame  and  no  praise  to 
bestow.  We  see  their  beastial  sensuality,  their  unrepublican  clan- 
nishness, and  their  readiness  to  commit  any  crime,  even  murder,  to 
uphold  their  religion,  but  we  never  allow  them  credit  for  their 
patient  industry,  that  has  founded  an  empire  in  the  wilderness,  nor 
their  indomitable  perseverance,  that  has  enabled  them  to  maintain, 
against  all  the  power  of  the  United  States,  their  depraved  and  dis- 
gusting custom  of  polygamy.  Their  economy,  too,  is  something 
remarkable,  and  that,  their  patience  and  their  toil  has  made  the 
wilderness  to  blossom  as  the  rose. 

Their  religion  is  founded  on  the  most  bare-faced  frauds,  and  was 
the  conception  of  an  ignorant,  but  cunning  imposter,  who  seems  to 
have  turned  from  the  digging  of  wells  and  more  questionable  prac- 
tices, to  the  making  of  creeds,  rather  from  a desire  to  gain  an  easy 
living,  than  an  ambition  to  found  a sect.  This  shrewed  Yankee, 
who  had  migrated  from  his  native  State  of  Vermont  to  New  York, 
seems  to  have  stolen  the  manuscript  of  a novel,  written  in  a style 
similar  to  that  of  the  scriptures,  and  entitled,  “The  Manuscript 
Found.” 


520 


THE  MORMONS 


521 


This  has  been  proved,  by  unimpeachable  evidence,  to  have  been 
the  work  of  one  Josiah  Spaulding,  a lawyer,  (some  accounts  say  a 
minister)  of  considerable  erudition.  Being  unable  to  get  it  pub- 
lished, he  laid  it  away  in  an  old  trunk,  from  which  it  was  filched  by 
Joseph  Smith,  who  afterward  pretended  to  have  been  directed  in  a 
vision  to  dig  in  a fabulous  hill,  (Cumorah)  where  he  would  find  the 
true  bible,  written  on  plates  of  gold.  The  plates  of  gold  were 


THE  HILL  OF  CUMORAH— MORMON  HILL. 


entirely  imaginary ; the  hill,  Cumorah,  was  Spaulding’s  trunk,  and 
the  new  bible  the  lawyer’s  novel. 

The  hill  which  the  Mormons  call  Cumorah,  is  called  by  the  neigh- 
bors Mormon  Hill,  and  the  cut  is  a perfect  representation  of  it, 
showing  even  the  hole  dug  by  the  knavish  prophet  and  in  which  he 
pretended  to  find  the  plates. 


522 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Upon  this  slender  foundation  has  been  built  up  one  of  the  most 
stupendous  and  lasting  humbugs  that  the  world  ever  saw.  The  Old 
Man  of  The  Mountain  had  not  more  fanatical  followers;  the  Veiled 
Prophet  of  Kohrassan  had  not  a more  sensual  and  infamous  creed. 
The  alleged  prophet,  Smith,  saw  that  if,  in  the  guise  of  religion, 
man’s  basest  passions  could  be  pandered  to,  he  would  become  an 
easy  convert,  and  hence  he  formulated  a creed,  in  which  license 
waited  on  lust  and  assassination  was  not  denied  to  revenge. 

Searching  the  scriptures  for  his  evil  purpose,  he  selected  the  most 
hideous  examples  in  the  Old  Testament,  and  entirely  ignored  the 
gentle  precepts  and  pure  morality  of  “the  lowly  Nazarene.”  Abra- 
ham, David  and  Solomon  were  stock* characters  in  his  facile  theology, 
but  the  noble,  learned,  spotless  Paul  and  He  who  died  on  Calvary, 
do  not  figure  therein.  His  doctrines  made  polygamy  a necessity, 
and  did  not  admit  of  celibacy  or  the  clinging  to  one  wife.  His 
polity  civil  and  religious  was  a step  backward  for  over  twenty 
centuries. 

The  government  was  one  of  priestcraft;  the  police  the  most 
infamous  ever  devised  since  the  reign  of  Thugism  in  India,  or  the 
banding  of  the  assassins  under  the  “Old  Man  of  the  Mountain.” 
The  Danites  perpetrated  massacres,  from  which  the  whole  world 
shrank  aghast  and  in  their  temple,  in  the  short  lulls  between  infa- 
mous blasphemy  and  riotous  lechery,  the  head  of  the  church  pub- 
licly thanked  the  head  of  the  assassins  for  the  cold-blooded  murder 
of  women  and  children. 

The  dark  vaults  of  the  Endowment  House  have  witnessed  scenes 
of  sacrificial  torture  and  murder,  that  outdo  in  savagery  the  stake 
fires  of  the  Apache  or  the  Sioux,  and  its  open  halls  have  looked  on 
sights  of  bestial  lust,  that  would  bring  a blush  to  the  cheeks  of  the 
most  besotted  harlot — and  all  this  in  the  sacred  name  of  religion. 

After  Smith  had  collected  around  him  a few  followers  from  the 
more  ignorant,  idle  and  vicious  persons  of  his  neighborhood,  he 
began  eagerly  to  proselyte,  and  approaching  only  persons  whose 
passions  or  policy  made  them  ready  believers,  he  soon  saw  himself 
at  the  head  of  a sufficient  number  to  begin  the  organization  of  his 
church.  This  he  did  by  calling  down  John  the  Baptist,  who,  accord- 
ing to  them,  readily  ordained  Oliver  Cowdery  and  Joseph  Smith  as 
priests  of  the  Alaronic  order. 


THE  MORMONS. 


523 


This  event  occurred  on  the  6th  (it  should  have  been  the  1st)  of 
April,  1830,  near  Manchester,  Ontario  County,  New  York,  and  in 
addition  to  these  two  the  church  consisted,  at  that  time,  of  four 
others;  three  of  them  belonging  to  the  Smith  family.  Oliver 
Cowdery,  a wandering  school  teacher,  seems,  next  to  Joseph  Smith, 
to  have  been  for  a long  time  the  leading  spirit  amongst  the  disciples 
of  this  religion  based  on  virility.  He  preached  its  first  sermon, 
though  Joseph,  during  his  life,  always  monopolized  the  revelation 
part  of  the  business. 

Promising  to  his  male  converts  a gratification  of  their  sensuality 
and  terrifying  the  females  with  revelations  of  the  coming  destruc- 
tion of  the  world,  this  fit  son  of  a knavish  father  and  a mother 
equally  tricky,  soon  had  around  him  a small  congregation  of  brutish 
men  and  idiotic  women,  and  then  his  revelations  increased  at  a won- 
derful rate.  One  of  these  miracles  warned  the  people  that  they 
must  go  West,  an  advice  afterward  offered  by  Horace  Greeley  to  all 
young  men,  and  early  in  1831  all  of  the  saints  had  made  their  way 
to  Kirtland,  Ohio. 

At  Kirtland,  Joseph  Smith  and  Sidney  Rigdon  had  opened  a bank, 
and  in  order  to  prepare  the  way  for  its  full-handed  failure,  Joseph 
here  had  an  unusually  heavy  revelation.  It  was  that  Jackson  County, 
Missouri,  was  “the  Zion,  which  never  should  be  moved,”  and  which 
“had  been  solemnly  dedicated  to  the  Lord  and  his  saints,”  and 
accordingly  the  Mormons  began  a march  to  that  section.  It  was 
about  this  time  that  Brigham  Young,  another  delectable  product  of 
the  State  of  Vermont,  joined  the  church,  together  with  his  four 
brothers  and  six  sisters. 

The  Mormon  fold  grew  rapidly,  owing  to  vigorous  missionary 
work  amongst  the  ignorant,  and  they  began  to  wax  insolent  as  their 
numbers  increased,  until  at  last  the  Missourians,  never  too  patient, 
determined  to  drive  these  thievish  knaves  from  their  midst.  Assemb- 
ling at  Independence,  they  broke  up  the  Mormon  newspaper,  tarred 
and  feathered  some  of  the  disciples,  banished  others,  and  after  a 
conflict,  in  which  both  sides  had  some  dead  and  wounded  on  their 
hands,  the  saints  fled  from  their  “everlasting  Zion,  which  would 
never  be  moved,”  and  sought  refuge  in  Illinois — after  a short  stay 
in  Clay,  Davis,  Carroll,  and  Caldwell  Counties,  Missouri. 

Here  they  settled  in  Hancock  County,  founded  Nauvoo,  obtained 
an  ascendency  in  that  section,  and  began  openly  the  practice  of 


524 


CONQUERING  TilE  WILDERNESS. 


polygamy.  To  vile  adultery,  they  added  high-handed  robbery, 
assassination,  and  all  other  crimes.  The  cholera  had  decimated  their 
Missouri  army  of  invasion;  writs  were  out  for  most  of  their  leaders, 
but  still  their  converts  poured  in.  Their  experience  in  Missouri  had 
taught  them  nothing,  and  at  last  their  evil  conduct  led  to  the  arrest 
and  imprisonment  of  several  of  them,  amongst  them  Joseph  Smith 
and  his  brother,  Hyrum. 

The  Mormons  at  this  time  maintained  a military  organization,  and 
terrorized  the  entire  section.  Tired  of  their  insolent  airs,  the  Illi- 
noisans at  last  raised  a mob,  broke  into  the  jail  at  Carthage,  and  shot 
Hyrum  Smith.  Joseph  determined,  if  possible,  to  escape,  and 
jumping  from  an  upper  story  of  the  jail,  was  so  seriously  hurt 


joe  smith.  * 


as  to  be  unable  to  fly.  The  mob  now  sat  him  against  a well  curb 
and  shot  him  to  death,  but  strange  to  say,  no  atmospheric,  or  other 
disturbances,  took  place  at  the  demise  of  “the  prophet.” 

Amidst  the  dissensions  which  took  place  at  the  death  of  Smith, 
Brigham  Young  seized  the  reins  of  government  by  force  of  his 
superior  will,  courage  and  tact  and  by  theft  and  murder,  when 
necessary  to  remove  obstacles.  It  was  undoubtedly  the  best  thing 
that  could  have  happened  to  the  sect,  for  under  his  management  the 
church  throve  apace,  and  the  city  of  Nauvoo,  in  the  early  part  of 
1845,  covered  six  square  miles,  and  had  a population,  by  actual 
count,  of  fifteen  thousand. 


THE  MORMONS. 


525 


Owing  to  the  low  character  of  the  entire  body  of  these  people, 
it  was  impossible  for  them  to  forego  theft,  murder,  counterfeit- 
ing, and  other  crimes,  and  their  extermination  was  actually  con- 
templated by  the  outraged  people  of  Illinois.  Brigham  Young, 
with  the  genius  of  a true  ruler,  saw  that  he  could  not  maintain  him- 
self against  the  coming  storm,  whose  mutterings  were  plainly  to  be 
heard,  and  he  also  knew  that,  cemented  by  suffering  and  what  they 
considered  persecution,  if  he  could  find  some  uninhabited  section, 
he  could  band  them  together  against  the  world — a sect  apart  from 
all  others. 

Accordingly,  in  the  dead  of  winter,  he  evacuated  Nauvoo,  with 
its  comfortable  houses  and  its  costly  temple,  and  with  his  entire  fol- 
lowing, set  his  face  toward  the  West.  Despise  them  and  their 
beastiality  as  we  may,  yet  we  cannot  but  admire  their  heroism  and 
their  endurance  on  this  long  and  dreary  winter’s  march.  At  last 
they  reached  the  vicinity  of  Omaha  and  here  they  went  into  camp, 
to  recruit  until  the  coming  spring.  The  able  management  of  Young 
had  convinced  the  Mormons  that  he  was  the  leader  for  them,  and  at 
this  point  he  was  proclaimed  the  successor  of  the  prophet,  Joseph ; 
many  of  the  ignorant  creatures  swearing  that  they  beheld  the  man- 
tle of  the  prophet  visibly  descend  upon  him. 

From  Omaha  Young  started,  April  14,  1847,  with  seventy  wag- 
ons and  one  hundred  and  forty-three  men,  as  an  advance  guard,  to 
seek  anew  a permanent  Zion.  On  the  24th  of  July,  the  same  year, 
he  entered  the  valley  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake,  and  its  advantages  at 
once  struck  him.  Its  isolated  position  was  just  what  he  wanted; 
for  here,  he  reasoned,  the  Mormons  would  be  a nation  to  themselves, 
and  here  they  might,  for  years,  remain  in  undisturbed  possession, 
until  their  accumulated  numbers  had  made  them  a foe,  that  it  might 
puzzle  the  entire  force  of  the  United  States  to  dispossess. 

Our  French  cousins  say:  “ L’liomme  propose , mais  X’ Dieu 
dispose ,”  and  the  discovery  of  gold  in  California,  in  a year  or  two 
after  their  settlement,  was  destined  to  open  a way  through  their  new 
kingdom,  that  would  give  it  as  great  publicity,  as  any  of  the  Ameri- 
can States  possessed.  Their  very  trail  to  their  hiding-place  in  the 
wilderness,  became  the  pathway  of  the  overland  gold-seeker,  and 
invaded  by  countless  swarms  of  these  adventurers,  their  wilder- 
ness-surrounded city  became  noted  as  an  oasis  in  the  desert.  Young’s 


526 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


judgment,  however,  was  not  at  fault,  for  had  not  gold  been  discov- 
ered in  California,  and  had  not,  suddenly,  all  ways  lead  to  that 
golden  center,  year  after  year  must  have  sped  away  and  his  people 
grown  to  wealth  and  power,  before  he  would  have  been  disturbed 
in  his  lakeside  Zion,  by  the  sacriligious  feet  of  outside  barbarians. 

In  1849,  the  Mormons  formed  of  their  section  the  State  of  Deseret, 
and  burdened  with  all  of  their  peculiar  institutions,  knocked  for 
admission  at  the  door  of  the  American  Union.  This  they  did  not 
obtain,  and  their  State  was  made  into  the  Territory  of  Utah,  in  1850, 
and  Young  appointed  by  Filmore  as  governor.  That  this  was  an 
unwise  move  is  doubted  by  no  one,  as  it  enabled  this  unscrupulous 
scoundrel  to  so  arrange  the  internal  affairs  of  the  territory,  that  the 
laws  of  the  United  States  have  been  a dead  letter  therein  ever 
since.  , 

It  is  here  that  the  Danites  of  the  Mormon  church  have  operated 
chiefly;  though,  contrary  to  the  general  opinion,  they  were  first 
organized  at  Nauvoo.  These  fanatical  assassins  were  often  used  by 
Joseph  Smith,  and  many  a gentile  and  even  troublesome  Mormon 
was  buried  in  the  suburbs  of  Nauvoo,  or  quietly  sunk  in  the  turbid 
waters  of  the  Mississippi.  Under  the  government  of  Brigham 
Young,  they  became  a favorite  instrument  and  fairly  rioted  in 
murder  and  other  crimes. 

Did  the  disgusted  Mormon  attempt  to  fly  from  his  infernal  delu- 
sion, the  Danites  speedily  “blood-atoned’ ’ him. 

Did  an  obnoxious  gentile  obstruct  some  plan  of  this  sensual  brute, 
under  the  guidance  of  these  “avenging  angels”  he  would  soon  “go 
over  the  rim  of  the  basin,”  and  months  afterward,  in  some  lonely 
gulch  or  some  mountain  stream,  his  mouldering  remains  would  be 
found,  and  the  murder  laid  to  the  charge  of  accident  or  Indians. 

When  it  was  not  deemed  politic  for  the  Danites  to  dispose  of  a 
man  in  Utah,  another  agent  was  brought  into  play;  the  knavish 
Mormon  Indian  trader,  who  robbed  alike  friend  and  foe;  savage 
ally  and  hated  gentile.  For  a few  trinkets  from  his  convenient 
pack,  a brace  of  savages  would  dog  the  victim,  and  at  some  conve- 
nient time  put  him  out  of  the  way  with  bows  and  arrows,  so  that 
the  handiwork  might  proclaim  the  Indian,  and  the  Danite  escape 
suspicion. 

Perhaps  the  most  horrible  of  all  their  crimes  was  that  which  has 
passed  into  history  as  the  “Mountain  Meadow  Massacre.”  It  is 


TIES  MORMONS.  527 

one  that,  for  cold-blooded  barbarity  and  infernal  cruelty,  dwarfs  the 
massacres  of  our  border  Indians  into  insignificance.  To  the  shame 
of  the  country,  be  it  said,  that  but  one  of  the  vile  wretches  that 
instigated  and  committed  this  outrage,  has  ever  been  brought  to 


A MORMON  INDIAN  TRADER. 

punishment.  This  wholesale  murder  will  be  described  as  briefly  as 
possible. 

One  hundred  and  thirty-two  Arkansas  immigrants,  on  their  way 
to  California,  were  passing  through  Utah  at  a time  when  Young, 
Wells,  Hyde,  Stout,  Dame,  Haight,  Lee,  and  other  prominent 


528 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


MormonSj  had  determined  to  spare  none  of  the  gentiles  who  should 
enter  the  territory.  After  reaching  the  Mormon  settlements,  the 
immigrants  were  met  with  a determined  hostility  and  while  having 
done  nothing  to  awaken  enmity,  they  were  surprised  to  find  that  they 
co-uld  neither  buy  food  for  themselves  nor  for  their  stock. 

The  latter  were  becoming  weak,  when  the  party  came  to  the 
Mountain  Meadows,  and  they  determined  to  rest  here  a few  days  to 
recruit  them,  as  there  was  good  water  and  luxuriant  grass.  This 
camp  they  were  destined  never  to  leave  again.  Under  instructions 
from  Brigham  Young,  George  A.  Smith,  Isaac  C.  Haight,  William 

H.  Dame  and  other  leaders,  the  fanatical  Lee,  Higby  and  Klingen- 
srnith,  (having  recruited  all  of  the  Indians,  over  whom  the  Mormons 
had  any  authority,)  with  fifty-eight  Mormons,  surrounded  these 
immigrants  and  at  daylightun  the  morning  of  Tuesday,  September 

I. 3th,  1857,  attacked  them  fiercely,  killing  seven  and  wounding 
sixteen. 


CHAPTER  XXin. 


THE  MOUNTAIN  MEADOW  MASSACRE. 


A DOOMED  BAND IN  SEARCH  OF  SUCCOR MORMONS  UNMASKED A DES- 
PERATE DEFENSE REPEATED  CHARGES SWARMING  SAVAGES TWO 

HEROES TRIBUTE  FROM  THE  INFAMOUS  LEE AMMUNITION  RUNS  LOW 

THE  FLAG  OF  TRUCE THE  PARLEY PROMISES THE  MORMON 

COUNCIL A MORMON  BISHOP PLAN  OF  THE  MASSACRE THE  SIGNAL 

“DO  YOUR  DUTY” ATTACK  ON  UNARMED  MEN,  WOMEN  AND  CHILDREN 

SICK  AND  WOUNDED  BUTCHERED INCIDENTS  OF  THIS  HORROR 

NAMES  OF  THE  PARTICIPANTS ESCAPE  OF  THREE  MEN PURSUED  AND 

KILLED THE  CAPTIVE  GIRLS THEIR  BUTCHERY SEARCHING  THE 

DEAD MUTUAL  RECRIMINATIONS ACCURSED  GROUND TARDY  JUSTICE 

A SINGLE  PARTICIPANT  PUNISHED A MURDERER  IN  CONGRESS 

CHARACTER  OF  LEE YOUNG’S  INFAMY A SELFISH  BEAST HIS 

COURSE HIS  GLUTTONY A FATAL  FEAST DEATH  OF  A DOG. 


Although  taken  by  surprise,  the  immigrants  fought  bravely  and 
repulsed  their  assailants,  who  were  more  than  four  hundred  in  num- 
ber. In  the  fight  they  killed  and  wounded  some  of  the  Indians,  but 
unluckily,  not  a single  Mormon  was  touched.  The  latter,  it  is  most 
likely,  went  into  this  first  fight  painted  like  the  Indians.  One  of 
the  chief  reasons  for  this  belief  is,  that  that  night  two  of  the  immi- 
grants made  their  way  out  of  the  camp  through  the  Indian  lines,  and 
hastened  to  Cedar  City  for  succor,  supposing  that  the  Mormons 
would  not  suffer  them  to  be  massacred.  On  the  way  they  met,  at  a 
roadside  spring,  William  C.  Stewart,  Benjamin  Arthur  and  Joel 
White,  and  stated  their  business  to  them.  Stewart  immediately  shot 
one  of  them,  a young  man  named  Aden,  and  Joel  White  wounded 
the  other,  who  escaped  again  to  the  beleaguered  camp  on  the 
meadows. 

The  immigrants  now  learned,  for  the  first  time,  that  the  Mormons 
were  not  only  the  instigators,  but  were  also  actors  in  the  attack,  and 
they  prepared  for  a desperate  defense.  The  wagons  were  in  corral 
shape — that  is,  almost  a complete  circle  with  a narrow  opening 
toward  the  front — and  they  now  closed  up  the  gaps  by  locking  the 
wheels  together  with  chains,  and  then  dug  a large  rifle-pit,  in  which 
the  women  and  children  were  placed.  Dash  after  dash  was  made  by 

520 


530 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS . 


the  godless  Mormons  and  their  savage  allies,  but  each  time  the  hand- 
full  of  brave  men  swept  them  back  with  loss. 

One  small  band  of  Indians  deserted,  but  their  place  was  more 
that  supplied  by  Mormons  and  Indians  from  outlying  camps  and 


settlements,  who,  on  the  wings  of  the  wind,  sped  on  to  the  doomed 
train.  Indian  runners  and  Mormon  messengers  were  hurrying 
from  place  to  place  to  bring  up  reinforcements,  and  the  condition  of 
the  immigrants  hourly  grew  more  critical.  They  had  camped  two 
hundred  feet  from  the  spring  and  to  obtain  water,  a dash  of  that 


THE  MOUNTAIN  MEADOW  MASSACRE. 


531 


distance  and  back  had  to  be  made.  Two  men  were  sent  out  to  cut 
wood,  so  that  cooking  could  be  done.  These  heroes  never  flinched, 
but  composedly  performed  their  duty  under  a perfect  storm  of  bul- 
lets. Their  courage  extorted  a tribute  even  from  the  infamous 
John  D.  Lee,  who  had  performed  as  many  of  Brigham  Young’s  vil- 
lainous errands  and  requirements  as  any  other  of  that  sect  of  thieves 
and  murderers. 

The  days  wore  on  wearily;  the  firing  from  the  Mormons  and 
Indians  being  constant  day  and  night.  That  from  the  corral  had 
slackened — the  besieged  were  almost  out  of  ammunition.  It  was 
now  Friday — for  four  days  and  nights  the  Arkansans  had  been  cooped 
in  the  fatal  corral,  and  still  the  furious  fire  of  the  hellish  besiegers 
was  kept  up.  Two  little  boys;  some  say,  and  for  a long  time  it  was 
not  denied,  two  little  girls  clad  all  in  white,  came  out  with  a flag  of 
truce  to  John  D.  Lee — who,  in  advance  of  his  savages,  was  endeavor- 
ing to  spy  out  a weak  place  in  the  fortified  corral — and  made  over- 
tures of  peace.  They  were  harshly  repelled,  but  that  afternoon, 
not  having  been  able  to  take  the  place  by  assault,  Lee  and  another 
wretch — either  Klingensmith  or  Bateman — advanced  with  a flao;  of 
truce,  and  were  met  by  a man  from  the  corral,  probably  Captain 
Fancher,  its  commander. 

It  may  seem  strange  that  the  immigrants  were  willing  to  treat  with 
men,  in  whom  they  could  not  have  had  the  slightest  confidence,  and 
who,  by  this  time,  they  must  have  known  as  infinitely  worse  than 
their  Indian  allies.  The  matter  is  easily  explained — there  were  not 
twenty  loads  of  ammunition  left  amongst  the  besieged  and  they 
took  the  desperate  chance  of  surrender  to  a foe  w ho  never  knew 
pity  nor  regarded  honor. 

It  had  been  agreed,  in  a council  held  by  the  Mormon  officers,  that 
they  would  never  be  able  to  take  these  men  by  assault,  and  that 
strategy  must  be  used  “to  decoy  them  from  their  fortifications, 
when  all  who  were  of  age  sufficient  to  talk  of  the  matter,  were  to  be 
exterminated .”  This  strategy  was  now  being  put  in  force. 

Lee  says  that  Bateman  carried  the  flag  of  truce,  and  when  he  was 
met  by  the  man  from  the  wagons  he,  himself,  went  up  and  arranged 
the  details  as  agreed  upon  by  John  M.  Higbey,  Major  of  Mormon 
militia;  Isaac  C.  Haight,  Colonel;  and  Philip  Klingensmith,  Bishop 
of  Cedar  City.  These  arrangements  were  according  to  the  general 
plans  of  Brigham  Young,  George  A.  Smith,  Daniel  H.  Wells,  Hyde 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


and  other  dignitaries  of  this  church,  that  permits  incest  and  incul- 
cates adultery  and  assassination. 

The  children  of  tender  years  were  to  be  put  into  one  wagon,  the 
wounded  into  another.  All  arms  were  to  be  given  up  and  the 
women  and  men,  in  two  separate  bodies,  were  to  be  marched  to 
Cedar  City  and  there  held  in  safety  until  they  could  go  through  to 
California  with  some  other  train.  When  Lee  entered  the  corral,  the 
immigrants  were  burying  two  of  their  men,  who  had  died  of  wounds 
received  in  Tuesday  morning’s  tight.  These  made  three,  of  the 
seventeen  wounded,  who  had  died  and  with  the  seven  killed  outright, 
made  ten  men  lost  in  the  assaults  by  their  foes. 

The  two  wagons  being  loaded,  they  were  driven  North  toward 
Jacob  Hamblin’s  ranche,  at  the  upper  end  of  the  meadows  and  in 
a short  time  had  crossed  a hill,  which  hid  the  corral  from  their  view. 
The  women  followed  the  wagon  rather  closely,  the  men  being  halted 
at  the  corral,  so  as  to  string  out  the  whole  line  as  much  as  possible. 
Everything  was  now  ready  for  this  deed,  whose  conception  was  that 
of  incarnate  fiends,  and  whose  execution  could  only  have  been 
performed  by  the  dastards  who  carried  it  into  effect. 

At  the  fatal  words,  “Do  your  duty,”  shouted  out  by  John  M. 
Higbe,  Indians  and  Mormons  began  firing  upon  their  defenseless  foes. 
It  was  a scene  of  horror  never  equalled  upon  this  continent ; it  is 
doubtful,  if  in  all  the  annals  of  the  human  race,  there  is  a parallel 
to  this  Mormon  infamy.  At  the  first  fire  all  of  the  men,  except  two 
or  three  fell,  and  these  were  pursued  by  mounted  men  and  cut  down. 
Tender  children — one  six  months  old — gentle  girls,  wives,  maidens 
and  mothers,  were  ruthlessly  butchered. 

One  girl  fell  on  her  knees,  the  blood  pouring  from  a wound  in 
her  shoulder,  and  begged*for  life,  saying  that  she  would  forever 
serve  the  man,  at  whose  feet  she  knelt,  if  he  would  save  her  life. 
With  a horrible  oath,  he  snatched  a tomahawk  from  the  hands  of 
a more  merciful  savage,  and  sank  it  into  her  skull. 

The  wounded  in  the  wagons  were  butchered  by  John  D.  Lee, 
Samuel  McMurdy,  and  Samuel  Knight,  who,  having  completed  this 
part  of  the  infernal  work,  then  proceeded  to  aid  their  comrades  in 
killing  the  men  and  women  who  were  on  foot.  Strange  as  it  may 
appear,  three  of  the  immigrants  escaped,  but  after  traveling  for 
many  days  and  enduring  every  privation,  they  were  overtaken  by 
panites  and  Indians,  and  killed. 


THE  MOUNTAIN  MEADOW  MASSACRE 


533 


Two  girls,  about  fifteen  years  old,  had,  in  the  confusion,  dashed 
into  some  brush,  and  for  a time  escaped.  A Cedar  City  chief  fol- 
lowed their  trail,  captured  them,  and  brought  them  back  to  the  ter- 
rible scene.  Here  he  wished  to  save  their  lives,  but  Lee  ordered 
him  to  shoot  one  of  them,  while  he  himself  dashed  the  other  one  to 


THE  MOUNTAIN  MEADOW  MASSACRE  BY  MORMONS  AND  INDIANS. 


the  ground  and  cut  her  throat,  the  blood  pouring  in  a torrent  over 
him  and  dyeing  his  clothes  with  the  horrid  hue  of  murder. 

The  bodies  were  now  searched  by  Major  Iligbe,  Bishop  Klingen- 
smith  and  William  C.  Stewart,  and  were  then  left  on  the  ground, 
where  they  were  stripped  by  the  Indians  and  horribly  mutilated. 


534 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


The  next  day  they  were  thrown  into  a slight  depression  in  the 
ground,  and  so  lightly  covered  with  earth,  that  the  next  heavy  rain 
exposed  the  mass  of  decomposed  corpses.  The  murderers  slept  on 
the  ground  near  the  victims  of  their  hellish  work,  and  the  next 
morning  departed,  driving  off  the  stock  and  wagons  of  the  immi- 
grants ; a spoil  for  which  they  had  paid  the  fearful  price  of  broken 
truth,  bankrupt  honor,  and  horrid,  wholesale  murder.  The  children 
were  eventually  collected  by  the  Government  and  returned  to  their 
friends. 

Beginning  the  morning  after  the  massacre,  charges  and  counter- 
charges were  made,  and  to  the  present  day  the  quarrels — as  to  their 
part  and  responsibility  in  this  day’s  work — engendered  by  the 
mutual  recriminations  of  the  Mormons,  have  done  more  to  disrupt 
them  than  everything  else  combined.  Many  of  those  who  engaged 
in  it  are  dead,  and  those  still  living  carry  about  with  them  their  own 
curse.  Even  Lee,  hardened,  fanatic  and  brutal  assassin  as  he  was, 
said,  with  a felon’s  death  staring  him  in  the  face,  that  he  was  as  well 
satisfied  at  the  prospect  of  his  fate,  as  he  had  been  for  twenty  years. 
For  their  faithful  execution  of  this  task,  these  men  were  loaded 
with  favors ; offices  and  concubines  were  showered  upon  them  by 
the  church,  but  still  they  carry,  and  will  to  their  graves,  the  gnaw- 
ing unrest  of  remorse. 

The  Meadow  is  accursed  ground — its  luxuriant  verdure  has  passed 
away,  and  its  gushing  springs  are  now  but  a mere  thread  of  silver, 
creeping  sluggishly  along  like  some  guilty  thing,  shunning  the  gaze 
of  men.  Over  its  wide  space  broods  the  sadness  of  despair  and 
desolation.  Here  is  no  blossom  of  flower,  no  blade  of  grass,  no 
song  of  birds,  but  enthroned  in  her  unutterable  loneliness,  Horror 
claims  sole  dominion  and  Murder  seems  fit  genius  of  the  scene.  This 
arena  of  perjury  and  assassination  has  felt  the  curse  of  God,  and 
for  each  of  the  actors  in  that  horrible  butchery,  we  involuntarily 
exclaim : 

“Oh,  for  a tongue  to  curse  the  knave 
Where  treason,  like  a deadly  blight, 

Comes  o’er  the  councils  of  the  brave 

And  blasts  them  in  their  hour  of  might : • 

May  life’s  unhallowed  cup  for  him 
Be  drugged  with  treacheries  to  the  brim  ; 

With  hopes  that  but  allure  to  fly, 

With  joys  that  vanish  as  he  sips, 

Like  Dead  Sea  fruits  that  tempt  the  eye, 

And  turn  to  ashes  on  the  lips. 


THE  MOUNTAIN  MEADOW  MASSACRE.  535 

Outcast  of  virtue,  peace  and  fame, 

May  he  at  last  with  lips  of  flame, 

On  the  parched  desert  thirsting  die, 

While  lakes,  that  shone  in  mockery  nigh, 

Are  fading  off  untouched,  untasted, 

Like  the  once  glorious  hopes  he  blasted; 

And  when  from  earth  his  spirit  flies, 

Just  prophet  let  the  damned  one  dwell 
Full  in  the  sight  of  paradise, 

Beholding  heaven,  and  feeling  hell ! ” 

Of  all  the  participants  in  this  crime,  the  government  of  the 
United  States  has  brought  but  one — John  D.  Lee — to  punishment. 
This  was  in  1877,  twenty  years  after  its  perpetration.  One  of  his 
accessories  after  the  fact,  if  not  an  adviser  of  it,  George  Q.  Cannon, 
sits  in  the  halls  of  Congress,  and  blackened  with  every  crime  known 
to  the  decalogue,  raises  his  voice  in  the  councils  of  the  nation, 
when  he  should  be  incarcerated  within  some  penitentiary  cell,  or 
swinging  from  a gibbet. 

Brigham  Young  waxing  greater  in  crime,  as  he  grew  in  years,  was 
at  last  stricken  with  death,  just  five  months,  to  a day,  after  his  faith- 
ful tool,  Lee,  was  executed.  His  seventy-six  years  of  life  show 
nothing  worthy  of  admiration,  save  his  genius  as  a ruler,  and  his 
determined  will.  The  first  obtained  for  him  the  control  over  a low, 
ignorant  and  lawless  people;  the  latter  made  him  fearless  in  the 
exercise  of  any  means,  however  desperate,  that  served  to  perpetuate 
his  power,  or  augment  his  wealth  and  influence. 

As  an  individual,  he  was  coarse  and  beastly;  a sensualist,  a hypo- 
crite, and  a tyrant.  His  rule  was  founded  in  theft  and  trickery,  and 
perpetuated  by  fraud  and  violence.  In  the  course  of  an  unusually 
long  life,  he  was  never  known  to  do  a generous  or  unselfish  action, 
and  it  is  safe  to  say  that  he  did  not  possess  a single  disinterested 
friend ; being  incapable  of  knowing,  or  inspiring  such  a feeling  as 
true  friendship. 

If  we  search  history  for  his  prototypes,  we  find  him  a mixture  of 
Mokanna,  the  veiled  prophet  of  Kohrassan,  and  that  terrible  chief 
of  the  assassins,  the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain.  No  danger  could 
bend  him  from  his  purpose;  no  crime  appalled  him,  and  no  treach- 
ery dismayed.  Without  a single  virtue,  he  died  as  he  had  lived  the 


536 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


victim  of  his  appetites ; his  fatal  illness  being  brought  on  by  eating 
an  enormous  mess  of  green  corn  and  half-ripe  peaches.  So  perished 


BRIGHAM  YOUNG,  THE  APOSTLE  OF  LUST  AND  MURDER. 


this  prophet  of  treachery  and  assassination ; this  apostle  of  fraud 
and  lust. 


CHAPTEE  XXIV. 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


HIS  BIRTH  AND  CHILDHOOD HIS  CHARACTER CLASSED  WITH  WTt,® 

BILL CHARACTER  OF  THE  LATTER A COWARD  AND  A MURDERER 

HIS  QUARREL  WITH  BILL  THOMPSON BIOGRAPHICAL  LIES A 

PLUCKED  GAMBLER ADVENTURE  AT  JUNCTION  CITY WHIPPED  BY 

A CARPENTER HIS  DEATH CODY  LEAVES  IOWA HIS  LIFE  IN  MIS- 

SOURI  MOVES  TO  KANSAS WITH  RUSSELL,  THE  FREIGHTER ACTS 

AS  HERDER ON  THE  PLAINS KILLS  AN  INDIAN GOES  TO  UTAH 

TRAIN  CAPTURED  BY  INDIANS WINTERS  AT  FORT  BRIDGER 

SUFFERINGS RETURNS  TO  THE  STATES SURROUNDED  BY  SAVAGES 

THE  THREE  HEROES RESCUED TRIES  TRAPPING A BROKEN 

LEG IMMINENT  DANGERS SAVED RIDES  PONY  EXPRESS THE 

CIVIL  WAR CHANDLER’S  HORSE  THIEVES THE  RED  LEGS DEATH 

OF  HIS  MOTHER TAKES  TO  DRINK VOLUNTEERS SERVICES 

MARRIES KEEPS  HOTEL BECOMES  A SCOUT. 


William  Frederick  Cody  was  born  in  the  spring  of  1845,  in  Scott 
County,  Iowa,  and  although  he  can,  in  nothing,  be  classed  with  the 
pioneer  element,  yet  his  life  has  been  so  full  of  incident,  that  it  has 
been  deemed  deserving  of  a place  in  our  sketches  of  the  plains  wor- 
thies. His  career  has  been  marked  with  a bravery,  modesty  and 
general  worth  greatly  at  variance  with  that  of  most  of  his  class,  and 
with  perhaps  a single  exception,  we  find  in  it  nothing  worthy  of 
reprobation.  There  has  been  an  unfortunate  association  of  his 
name  and  exploits  with  those  of  J.  B.  Hickok,  or  Wild  Bill,  as  his 
admirers  delighted  to  call  him. 

This  fellow  was  a red-handed  murderer  without  a single  redeem- 
ing trait,  not  even  possessing  the  fearless  bravery  that  usually 
characterizes  the  Western  desperado.  It  is  extremely  doubtful  if, 
iii  his  whole  career,  Wild  Bill  ever  killed  an  enemy  who  had  an 
even  chance.  His  killings,  despite  all  that  his  admiring  biographers 
may  say,  were  brutal  murders,  in  which  he  relentlessly  “took  the 
drop,”  as  men  of  his  class  express  it,  and  slaughtered  his  foe,  as 
the  butcher  does  the  unsuspecting  ox,  and  with  as  little  mercy 
or  remorse. 

This  was  his  mode  of  operation  with  Pierce, the  unarmed  cattle-man, 

at  Ellsworth,  and  if  it  could  be  traced  up,  this  would  be  found  to 

337 


538 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


have  been  ms  plan  of  killing  in  each  and  every  instance.  One,  if 
not  all  of  this  creature’s  biographers,  represents  him,  in  his  quarrel 
with  Bill  Thompson,  at  Ellsworth,  some  eight  or  nine  years  ago,  as 
killing  Thompson  by  a marvelously  quick  shot,  when  the  truth  is,  that 
when  he  found  himself  face  to  face  with  a fighting  man,  he  cringed 
and  cowered  like  a whipped  spaniel,  and  unresentingly  stood  all  of 
Thompson’s  abuse.  Meeting  Thompson  in  the  Gunnison  country 


WILD  BILL— FROM  A PHOTOGRAPH. 

three  years  ago,  I could  not  help  smiling  at  the  healthfulness  of  this 
one  of  the  corpses  made  by  Wild  Bill. 

Essaying  the  role  of  a gambler,  only  to  be  plucked  by  any  sharper 
of  ordinary  skill,  he  was  a frequenter  of  every  place  of  evil  repute, 
and  was  as  great  a bully  as  he  was  a coward.  Mr.  Sargent,  the 
druggist  at  Junction  City,  Kansas,  once  recounted  to  me  one  of 
Wild  Bill’s  exploits  at  that  place.  A carpenter  who  was  in  the 
government  employ  at  Fort  Biley,  a few  miles  from  Junction  City, 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


539 


came  over  to  the  latter  place,  and  was  immediately  set  upon  by  Bill 
for  a tight.  Being  a quiet,  peaceable  man,  he  declined  the  combat* 
and  in  every  honorable  wray  endeavored  to  evade  the  bully. 

Bill  finally  cornered  him  and  told  him  he  had  to  fight,  or  take  a 
“thrashing,’'1  and  the  carpenter,  seeing  that  there  was  no  escape, 
prepared  to  do  his  best.  He  told  Bill  that  he  was  entirely  unarmed, 
and  the  latter,  who  was  over  six  feet  high  and  large  in  proportion 


BUFFALO  BILL — FROM  A PHOTOGRAPH. 


—while  the  carpenter  was  only  of  medium  size — agreed  to  fight  him 
a fair,  fist  fight. 

Throwing  off  their  coats,  the  combat  began,  and  the  carpenter, 
once  in  for  it,  made  a desperate  battle;  Bill  being  so  completely 
used  up  by  his  smaller,  but  more  plucky  antagonist,  that  his  own 
mother  would  scarcely  have  recognized  him.  Finding  that  he  had 
“caught  a tartar,”  Bill  wished  to  make  friends  with  him,  but  the 


540 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


carpenter  refused  his  offered  hand,  telling  him  that  he  wanted  noth- 
ing to  do  with  a cowardly  murderer,  and  walked  off  quietly  about 
his  business,  while  Bill  slunk  out  of  the  town. 

When,  finally,  this  desperado’s  career  of  crime  and  blood  came 
to  a close,  and  he  perished  by  precisely  the  same  means,  and  in  just 
the  same  manner,  as  he  had  meted  out  to  so  many,  a perfect  howl 
of  condemnation  was  raised  against  his  slayer,  though  he  was  a bet- 
ter man  in  everything,  not  omitting  the  matter  of  nerve,  than  his 
victim. 

A more  righteous  judgment  never  overtook  a cold-blooded  mur- 
derer, and  by  a not  unnatural  fatality,  he  died  by  his  enemy  taking 
what  he  himself  invariably  sought,  “the  drop.”  Never  was  poetic 
justice  more  fully  carried  out,  or  the  maxim  of  the  Good  Book  more 
completely  justified:  “Whosoever  taketh  the  sword,  shall  perish 
by  the  sword,  and  whosoever  sheddeth  man’s  blood,  by  man  shall 
his  blood  be  shed.” 

With  such  cattle  as  this  Buffalo  Bill  has  been  too  often  confoun- 
ded for  his  own  good. 

When  but  a boy,  Cody  started  with  his  father  from  Iowa  to  Kan- 
sas, but  they  stopped  at  Weston,  Missouri,  where  the  elder  Cody 
opened  a trading  post,  and  it  was  doubtless  at  this  point  that  Buf- 
falo Bill  first  imbibed  his  love  of  adventure,  that  has  ever  since 
clung  to  him.  Here  the  heroic  trappers  and  hunters  often  came,  on 
their  way  down  from  the  mountains  and  the  plains,  and  from  these 
hardy  descendants  of  the  pioneers  of  Kentucky  and  Tennessee,  the 
younger  Cody  caught  the  fever  of  excitement,  that  hung  around 
their  lives  and  exploits. 

Young  Cody’s  first  employment  was  that  of  herding  cattle  for 
Bussell,  of  the  great  overland  freighting  firm  of  Majors,  Russell  and 
Waddell,  at  one  time  known  over  the  whole  length  and  breadth  of 
the  plains.  Cody  was  hired  by  Russell  to  herd  his  cattle,  then  graz- 
ing in  the  vicinity  of  Fort  Leavenworth.  Continuing  at  this  employ- 
ment for  one  or  two  seasons,  he  next  went  with  John  Willis,  one  of 
Russell’s  wagon  masters,  whose  train  was  carrying  supplies  to  Fort 
Kearney,  on  the  Platte.  This  was  his  first  trip  upon  the  plains,  and 
returning  to  Fort  Leavenworth,  he  spent  another  season  herding 
near  that  place. 

Cody  first  crossed  the  plains  in  1857,  which  shows  how  late  was 
his  advent  into  the  ranks  of  the  frontiersmen.  On  this  occasion  he 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


541 


was  acting  as  one  of  the  herders  who  were  driving  the  cattle,  which 
were  to  provision  the  little  army  of  Albert  Sidney  Johnston,  then  on 
his  way  to  Utah,  to  put  down  the  insolent  Mormons,  who  were 
openly  defying  the  laws  and  powers  of  the  United  States.  When 
the  herd  was  but  a short  distance  above  Fort  Kearney,  it  was  stam- 
peded by  the  Indians,  who  also  attacked  the  herders  and  sent  them 
flying  to  the  banks  of  the  Platte  as  a refuge. 

Down  the  river  to  the  fort,  they  made  their  way  by  wading  along 
under  its  steep  bluff  banks,  and  an  Indian,  incautiously  peering 
over,  was  shot  by  Cody,  and  killed.  Having  for  a long  time  been 
familiar  with  the  Platte  River,  we  are  unable  to  call  to  mind  any 
such  banks  (as  are  attributed  to  it  in  this  account),  in  the  vicinity 
of  Fort  Kearney,  still  the  narrative  may  be  strictly  true,  and  as  it 
appears  in  all  of  Buffalo  Bill’s  biographies,  it  is  given  here. 

In  the  summer  of  the  succeeding  year,  young  Cody  went  as  a 
teamster  to  Utah,  and  here  he  encountered  very  serious  troubles. 
The  train  was  attacked  by  a large  number  of  Indians,  some  distance 
above  Fort  Bndger,  and  unable  to  defend  it,  it  was  abandoned  by 
bosses  and  teamsters  and  was  sacked  by  the  Indians.  During  their 
wintering  at  Bridger,  game  was  scarce  and  they  often  suffered  from 
hunger,  as  well  as  cold.  On  the  return  of  spring,  they  were  glad  to 
avail  themselves  of  the  first  opportunity  to  return  to  “the  States.” 

That  summer  a double  train  was  fitted  out  to  go  to  Utah  and  Cody, 
not  yet  tired  of  adventure,  joined  it.  For  some  time  they  met  with 
no  incidents  worthy  of  record,  but  the  day  before  making  their 
crossing  of  the  Platte,  on  the  “lower  California  trail,”  the  trains 
became  separated  by  an  interval  of  about  twelve  miles,  and  Simp- 
son, in  charge  of  both  trains,  thinking  it  more  prudent  to  travel 
together,  now  that  they  were  in  a dangerous  part  of  the  country, 
started  with  his  assistant  and  Cody  to  ride  on  and  overtake  the  fore- 
most train.  Galloping  carelessly  along,  they  were  fired  upon  by  a 
band  of  savages  concealed  in  the  sand-hills,  and  two  of  their  mules 
wounded  and  one  killed. 

Flight  was  out  of  the  question  and  they  determined  to  try  and 
hold  the  enemy  in  check  until  the  arrival  of  their  comrades.  Rightly 
supposing  that  the  savages  would  charge  them,  they  shot  down  the 
two  wounded  mules,  and  of  the  three  made  a very  fair  breast-work. 
Hardly  were  their  arrangements  completed,  when  the  Indians  poured 
over  the  crest  of  the  sand-hills,  in  a furious  charge.  The  tactics  of 


542 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


the  whites  were  those  usually  pursued  on  such  occasions.  They 
allowed  the  savages  to  approach  near  enough  to  make  every  shot 
fatal,  and  then  poured  rapid  volleys  into  their  ranks.  Dismayed  at 
the  death-dealing  shots  of  the  white  men,  the  Indians  staggered  and 
turned  in  flight. 

From  the  secure  shelter  of  the  sand-hills,  however,  they  continued 
the  combat  until  the  next  morning,  making  an  occasional  charge, 
which  proved  as  futile  as  their  first.  About  nine  o’clock  the  rear 
train  appeared  in  view,  and  relinquishing  their  seige,  the  Indians 
fled,  after  making  one  last,  fierce  charge  upon  the  feeble  garrison. 
The  trains  proceeded  on  their  way  and  succeeded  in  reaching  their 
destination  without  further  difficulty  or  detention. 

In  1859,  Cody,  now  fourteen  years  old,  essayed  trapping  for  a 
while,  and  also  rode  on  the  pony  express  route.  If  his  biogra- 
phers are  to  be  believed,  he  met  with  a most  miraculous  escape 
from  death  in  the  winter  of  this  year.  He  and  a companion  were 
out  on  a hunting  and  trapping  expedition,  when  Cody  slipped  on  the 
icy  ground  and  fell,  breaking  his  leg.  In  a rude  dug-out — one  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five  or  thirty  miles  from  civilization — he  was 
left,  with  plenty  of  meat,  while  his  companion  returned  to  the  set- 
tlements for  a team  to  take  him  to  his  home. 

On  the  fifteenth  day  after  the  departure  of  his  comrade,  the 
Sioux  Indians  captured  the  dug-out,  but  spared  Cody  on  account  of 
his  youth,  and  after  eating  up  everything  they  could  find,  took  their 
departure.  On  the  twenty-first  day  after  starting  for  the  team, 
his  comrade  returned  and  found  Cody  almost  dead  with  hunger,  cold 
and  the  pain  of  his  broken  leg.  Taken  back  to  his  home  and  care- 
fully nursed  by  his  mother,  he  was  not  long  in  recovering  from  his 
accident,  owing  to  his  youth  and  the  strength  of  his  constitution. 

Having  had  enough  of  trapping,  Cody  now  began  again  as  a rider 
on  the  Pony  Express,  but  an  Indian  war  breaking  out,  he  volun- 
teered as  an  Indian  fighter.  On  one  occasion,  during  this  war,  while 
out  on  a hunt,  he  came  upon  a nest  of  prairie  bandits,  and  narrowly 
escaped  from  their  clutches  by  killing  two  of  them  and  making  a 
swift  flight. 

The  most  disreputable  part  of  Cody’s  career  now  approaches.  In 
1861  the  civil  war  between  the  North  and  South  broke  out,  and 
Cody  took  the  false  step  of  joining  Chandler’s  Kansas  horse  thieves, 
in  one  of  their  marauding  visits  to  Missouri.  In  Jackson  County, 


BUFFALO  BILL. 


543 


while  engaged  in  their  nefarious  schemes  of  plunder,  they  were 
encountered  by  a small  party  of  Missourians,  said  to  have  been 
under  the  command  of  one  of  the  Youngers,  and  were  driven  pell- 
mell  out  of  the  State,  with  considerable  loss. 

Cody’s  mother  was  a Christian  woman  and  she  persuaded  her  son 
to  forsake  the  desreputable  life,  into  which  he  had  been  led  by  older 
and  more  experienced  men.  Relinquishing  his  membership  in  this 
band,  Cody  volunteered,  in  1862,  to  go  with  Colonel  Clark  against 
the  Indians,  then  raiding  the  Kansas  border  and  this  service  over, 
we  find  him  next  enrolled  amongst  the  Kansas  Red-legs,  who  were 
waging  an  unsuccessful  war  against  the  Missouri  guerrillas.  Fight- 
ing, when  they  fought  at  all,  against  the  most  desperate  men  the 
world  ever  saw — the  combats  of  the  Red-legs  were  chiefly  distin- 
guished by  a series  of  flights,  in  which  every  man  looked  out  for 
himself.  Cody’s  record,  during  this  part  of  the  civil  war,  adds 
nothing  to  his  fame  and  a part  of  it  tarnishes  an  otherwise  honorable 
career. 

In  1863  his  mother  died,  and  he  sought  solace,  for  his  irreparable 
loss  in  inebriation;  for  a time  becoming  an  habitual  drunkard. 
While  on  one  of  his  sprees,  he  enlisted  in  the  Seventh  Kansas  Regi- 
ment, going  with  his  command  to  Tennessee.  After  [a  short  ser- 
vice in  that  State,  the  regiment  was  ordered  back  toMissiouri,  where 
Cody  was  detailed  as  a scout,  and  in  conjunction  with  Wild  Bill,  it 
is  usual  to  attribute  to  him  quite  a number  of  miraculous  adven- 
tures, which  really  had  no  foundation,  except  in  the  imagination  of 
his  biographers.  Cody  did  his  duty  like  a man  and  acquitted  him- 
self creditably,  meeting  wflth  neither  more  nor  less  than  the  usual 
difficulties  attending  the  life  of  a scout. 

In  1864-5  Cody  was  stationed  in  St.  Louis,  and  it  was  here  that 
he  met  and  married  his  wife.  After  marrige,  he  began  life  as  a 
hotel-keeper  at  Salt  River  Valley,  but  tiring  of  the  monotony 
incident  to  such  a vocation,  he  relinquished  it  after  a six  month’s 
trial  and  began  scouting  on  the  plains,  being  attached  to  Fort  Hays 
as  a permanent  part  of  its  garrison.  It  was  while  occupying  this 
position  that  Cody  first  met  the  gallant,  but  ill-fated,  Custer,  and 
the  latter  seems  to  have  taken  quite  a fancy  to  him.  At  this  time 
the  Indians  were  making  constant  raids  along  the  Kansas  Pacific 
railway,  murdering  alike  the  settlers,  and  the  laborers  employed  in  the 
construction  of  the  railroad. 


CHAPTER  XX Y. 


ADVENTURES  OF  BUFFALO  BILL. 


WITH  THE  TENTH  CAVALRY ON  A SCOUT COLORED  TROOPS CHARGE  OF 

THE  INDIANS ARTILLERY  CAPTURED RETAKEN CODY’S  COOLNESS 

THE  CITY  OF  ROME A REAL  ESTATE  SPECULATION TOO  GREEDY 

THE  RIVAL  TOWN ILLIUM  FUIT WITH  CAPTAIN  GRAHAM A 

SURPRISE  SPOILED KILLS  FOUR  THOUSAND  BUFFALOS BUFFALO  HUNT- 
ING  TRAVELERS’  TALES TREED  ON  THE  PLAINS FUKES CHASED 

BY  INDIANS A CLOSE  CALL PUT  TO  FLIGHT A DESPERATE  ADVEN- 

TURE  THREE  INDIANS  KILLED THE  BUFFALO  KILLING  MATCH CODY 

TRIUMPHANT THE  TABLES  TURNED CAPTURED  BY  SANTANTA AN 

OLD  MISCREANT— OUTWITS  THE  SAVAGES ESCAPES SANTANTA  IN 

PRISON AN  ANXIOUS  QUESTION SUICIDE A POMPOUS  COLONEL 

GAME  TRANSPORTING  ITSELF THE  ANGRY  OFFICER VILLAGE  SUR- 
PRISED  STUBBORN  FIGHT CODY  KILLS  TALL  BULL HIS  RACE  HORSE 

GUIDE  FOR  GRAND  DUKE  ALEXIS BUNTLINE’S  DRAMA A LUCKY 

HIT GUIDE  FOR  CARR KILLS  YELLOWHAND MIMIC  COMBATS THE 

REAL  AND  THE  IDEAL PRAIRIE  FIRES WELL-DESERVED  SUCCESS. 


The  first  actual  service  of  Cody,  in  his  new  capacity,  occurred 
after  a raid  of  the  Indians,  in  which  several  track-layers  were  butch- 
ered by  the  Sioux.  A company  of  the  Tenth  Cavalry,  colored, 
was  dispatched  against  the  marauding  redskins  and  Cody  went 
along  as  scout.  In  the  combat  which  ensued,  the  savages  made 
several  bold  charges,  in  one  of  wdiich  they  captured  the  howitzer, 
which  formed  a part  of  the  armament  of  the  troops.  Unable  to 
make  use  of  their  capture,  the  Indians  suffered  it  to  be  retaken 
and  after  a severe  loss  the  negroes  retreated  to  Fort  Hays,  Cody’s 
coolness  and  courage  alone  preventing  their  extermination. 

Cody’s  next  exploit  was  as  founder  of  a city; he  and  a partner 
laying  out  a town  site  upon  the  Kansas  Pacific  road,  which  they 
called  Rome.  The  site  being  really  desirable,  the  locating  agent  of 
the  railroad  offered,  if  they  would  deed  to  the  company  a part  of 
it,  to  assist  them  in  making  a town  of  it,  but  so  certain  were 
the  two  partners  that  their  location  must  become  the  site  of  a large 
city,  that  they  refused  to  make  over  a single  lot  to  the  corpora- 
tion. Bidding  them  good  morning,  the  agent  went  one  mile  West, 
located  Hays  City,  established  there  a round-house  and  machine 


ADVENTURES  OF  BUFFALO  BILL. 


545 


shops,  and  in  spite  of  its  heroic  name,  Rome  was  soon  as  dead  as 
Julius  Caesar. 

After  his  failure  as  a speculator  in  town  sites,  Cody  attached  him- 
self to  Captain  Graham’s  company  as  scout,  and  the  Indians  having 
stolen  a large  number  of  horses,  the  troops  went  in  pursuit.  Fol- 
lowing rapidly  on  their  trail,  Cody  saw  an  opportunity  to  surprise 
them  and  suggested  his  plan  to  Captain  Graham,  who  immediately 
acted  upon  it.  Owing  to  the  nervousness  of  one  of  the  negroes, 
who,  by  firing  his  gun,  gave  notice  to  the  savages  of  their  presence, 
the  Indians  made  their  escape,  though  the  rapid  charge  of  the  troops 
caused  them  to  abandon  their  supplies. 

In  providing  meat  for  the  frontier  posts,  Cody  is  said  to 
have  killed  four  thousand  buffaloes.  This  is  rather  doubtful, 
though  even  if  true,  it  adds  nothing  to  his  fame,  as  the  hunting 
and  killing  of  these  animals  is  attended  with  no  danger  what- 
ever.  I am  aware  that  everyone  who  writes  of  a buffalo  hunt, 
gives  an  exciting  account  of  his  narrow  escape  from  impalement 
upon  the  horns  of  some  wounded  bull,  but  this  is  mere  bosh.  In 
all  of  my  life  on  the  plains,  during  which  my  experience  in  buffalo 
hunting  wras  as  large  as  that  of  most  men,  I never  knew  or  heard  of 
a single  accident  occurring  from  a buffalo. 

An  incident  related  by  an  eastern  correspondent,  of  a boy  wound- 
ing a buffalo  and  being  treed  by  it  on  the  limb  of  a gigantic  oak, 
argues  a marvelous  gullibility  in  his  readers.  We  give  an  illustra- 
tion of  just  such  an  incident,  in  which,  as  is  plainly  to  be  seen,  the 
tree  has  been  brought  some  hundreds  of  miles  and  dumped  down  on 
the  bare  plain  just  to  answer  the  purpose  to  which  the  correspond- 
ent puts  it. 

The  mode  of  hunting  buffalo  usually  in  vogue  upon  the  plains,  is 
to  dash  into  the  herd,  on  horseback,  and  with  rifle,  fuke,  or  revolv- 
ers, to  shoot  down  the  animals.  The  experienced  hunter  will  always 
ride  to  the  front  of  the  drove,  sure  of  finding  there  the  sleekest  and 
fattest  of  the  herd,  which  is  usually  led  by  a four-year  old  cowl 
The  calves  and  old  bulls  bring  up  the  rear,  not  from  any  sentiment 
of  gallantry  upon  the  part  of  the  latter,  but  simply  because  they 
are  unable  to  keep  up  with  the  others.  The  fuke,  alluded  to  above, 
is  a double-barreled  gun  sawed  off  to  a length  of  about  fourteen 
inches,  and  of  a size  to  chamber  a “trade  ball.”  Since  the  advent 
of  the  breech-loading  and  magazine  rifle,  they  are  not  so  much  used 


546 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS, 


as  formerly,  when  they  were  the  most  convenient  of  all  guns  for 
rapidly  reloading,  while  going  at  full  speed. 

In  1867,  Cody  had  been  out  on  a scout  and  was  returning  to  Fort 
Hays,  when  he  was  chased  by  a party  of  Indians  for  nearly  twenty 
miles.  When  his  horse  was  about  exhausted,  and  Cody  was  deter- 
mining to  sell  his  life  as  dearly  as  possible,  he  dashed  around  a point 
of  timber  on  a small  stream,  and  was  delighted  to  meet  a wagon 
from  the  fort  with  half  a dozen  soldiers  in  it.  Motioning  them  to 
drive  at  once  into  the  timber,  Cody  joined  them,  and  secreting 
themselves  until  the  Indians  came  up,  the' latter  were  saluted  by  a 


TREED  BY  A BUFFALO. 


fire  that  dropped  three  of  them  to  the  ground,  and  sent  the  others 
in  rapid  flight  over  the  road  they  had  just  come. 

Cody’s  next  adventure  happened  while  out  on  a buffalo  hunt. 
Anticipating  no  danger,  he  had  taken  but  a single  companion,  to 
butcher  the  animals  he  might  kill.  Scarcely  had  they  reached  the 
ground,  when  they  were  attacked  by  twenty  Sioux,  mounted  on  their 
swift  and  hardy  war  ponies.  Cody  at  once  saw  that  flight  was  out 
of  the  question,  and  hitching  the  mules  which  they  had  unharnessed 
from  the  wagon,  by  their  bridles,  he  and  his  comrade  got  under  the 
wagon  and  prepared  for  a stubborn  defense.  In  the  fight  which 


ADVENTURES  OF  BUFFALO  BILL. 


547 


be^an  immediately,  Cody’s  mules  were  both  killed,  but  neither  he 
nor  bis  companion  was  touched,  while  three  of  the  savages  were 
killed  and  the  others  driven  off. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Cody  and  Bill  Comstock  had  a buffalo 
killing  match  of  eight  hours  duration,  in  which  Cody  came  off  victor, 
having  killed  sixty-nine  buffalos,  to  forty-six  killed  by  Comstock. 
Thus  he  obtained  his  title  of  Buffalo  Bill.  While  scouting  ahead  of 
a party  of  tracklayers,  who  were  guarded  by  a squad  of  soldiers, 
Bill  was  chased  back  toward  the  camp.  His  mule  was  a fast  animal, 
but  the  Indians  gained  steadily  upon  him  and  when  he  came  in  sight 
of  camp,  had  nearly  overtaken  him. 

The  presence  of  the  soldiers  in  the  camp  was  entirely  unsuspected 
by  the  Indians,  and  when  Cody  procured  a fresh  horse  and  started 
in  pursuit  of  them,  the  tables  were  completely  turned.  Their  ponies, 
jaded  by  a race  of  fifteen  or  twenty  miles,  were  soon  overtaken  by 
the  fresh  horses  of  the  troopers  and  ten  of  the  savages  were  killed ; 
the  coming  of  the  night,  alone,  permitting  a part  of  them  to  escape. 

Cody  was  again  jumped,  in  1868,  by  Indians,  on  the  road  between 
Forts  Hooker  and  Larned.  After  a short  chase,  he  was  captured  by 
the  savages  and  after  being  very  cruelly  abused,  was  taken  into  the 
presence  of  Santanta,  who  was  camped  on  a small  stream,  near  the 
road.  Expecting  nothing  but  death  from  this  brutal  old  miscreant, 
Cody’s  ready  wit  suggested  a means  of  escape  when  Santanta  began 
to  question  him.  In  reply  to  the  query  as  to  what  he  was  doing  in 
that  part  of  the  country,  he  told  Santanta  that  he  had  been  sent  to 
Larned  to  hurry  up  the  cattle,  which  the  government  had  allotted  to 
the  Indians,  and  then  he  complained  of  the  rough  treatment  of  the 
chief’s  young  men.  The  old  hypocrite  assured  him  that  it  was  all 
intended  for  sport  and  made  them  restore  to  Cody  the  arms  of 
which  they  had  robbed  him.  He  also  volunteered  an  escort  to  help 
Cody  drive  the  cattle,  but  this  was  “declined  with  thanks”  by  the 
scout,  who  was  now  permitted  to  ride  off  alone. 

Scarcely  was  he  out  of  sight,  when  Santanta,  having  some  doubt 
as  to  the  truth  of  Cody’s  story,  sent  his  young  men  in  pursuit,  but 
the  scout  had  began  to  whip  up  his  mule  and  after  a long  and  rapid 
flight  succeeded  in  making  his  escape,  leaving  Santanta  minus  his 
prsioner  and  cattle.  This  murderous  old  savage  was  afterward  cap- 
tured, with  Lone  Wolf,  in  one  of  their  raids,  by  the  Texas  rangers, 
who  very  foolishly  took  them  prisoners,  instead  of  killing  them  on 


548 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


the  spot.  Sentenced  by  the  civil  courts  of  that  State  to  imprison- 
ment for  life,  they  were  released  at  the  intercession  of  the  govern- 
ment at  Washington  and  taken  on  a tour  of  the  United  States. 

After  hundreds  of  promises,  Santanta  was  restored  to  his  tribe, 
and  the  next  year  was  taken  while  torturing  some  prisoners  he  had 
captured  on  the  Texan  border.  Again  sentenced  to  a life  imprison- 
ment by  the  authorities  of  Texas,  I saw  the  old  scoundrel  in  the 
penitentiary  at  Huntsville  in  that  State.  Remembering  to  have  met 
me  at  St.  Louis,  and  also  on  the  plains,  he  asked  me  when  he  would 
be  set  free.  I told  him  that  he  would  be  kept  where  he  was  until  he 
died ; that  there  was  not  the  slightest  hope  of  his  ever  getting  back 
to  his  tribe  again.  Shortly  after  this,  I saw  in  a newspaper  an 
account  of  his  having  committed  suicide,  by  throwing  himself  from 
one  of  the  upper  corridors  of  the  prison  in  which  he  was  confined. 

It  is  said  that  Bill  once  asked  Colonel  Royal,  for  whose  command 
he  was  then  acting  as  hunter,  for  a wagon  to  bring  in  the  buffalo  he 
was  going  out  to  kill.  Royal  very  pompously  told  him  that  he  was 
not  in  the  habit  of  sending  out  wagons  until  he  knew  that  there  was 
something  to  biing  in  and  without  a word  Cody  rode  off.  On  the 
range  he  started  a small  herd  and  heading  them  toward  the  camp, 
actually  drove  them  into  it  and  slaughtered  them  there.  The  noise 
brought  Royal  on  the  scene  and  in  answer  to  his  demand,  to  knov; 
what  the  shooting  in  his  camp  meant,  Bill  coolly  pointed  to  the  dead 
buffalo  and  told  him,  that  since  he  was  unwilling  to  furnish  a wagon, 
he  had  made  the  game  bring  their  own  bodies  into  camp. 

In  1869,  while  out  scouting  for  General  Carr’s  command,  Cody 
discovered  a Sioux  village  and  surrounding  it,  the  troops  charged 
fiercely  upon  it,  killing  one  hundred  and  forty  of  the  Indians  and 
then  set  fire  to  the  lodges,  burning  all  of  the  Indian  supplies.  In 
the  village  they  found  a white  woman,  who  had  been  tomahawked 
at  the  first  alarm.  Scattering  to  the  sand-hills,  the  Indians  had 
re-formed  and  while  the  flames  were  still  blazing  furiously,  they 
made  a rapid  charge,  yelling  like  demons.  Cody  and  a few  men  had 
been  thrown  out  on  the  skirmish  line  and  as  Tall  Bull  came  on  at 
the  head  of  his  warriors,  a lucky  shot  from  Cody  dropped  him  from 
his  horse,  which  was  captured  by  one  of  the  troopers.  This  horse, 
under  the  management  of  Cody,  became  noted  as  a racer  and  won 
many  a bet  for  his  new  master. 


ADVENTURES  OF  BUFFALO  BILE. 

For  over  two  years  Bill  scouted  and  hunted  for  the  frontier  posts, 
and  having  located  a ranch  in  Nebraska,  near  North  Platte,  he  was 


THE  TABLES  TURNED— THE  WAY  THE  GRAND  DUKE  ALEXIS  IS  SAID  TO  HAVE 

HUNTED  BUFFALO. 


appointed  a justice  of  the  peace,  in  which  capacity  he  gave  general 
satisfaction.  In  1872  he  acted  as  guide  for  Alexis,  Grand  Duke  of 


560 


Cd»Qt«CiliN8  TttK  WitDEBSKSS. 


Russia,  who  was  making  a tour  of  the  United  States  and  who 
desired  to  have  a buffalo  hunt  on  the  plains.  As  the  details  of  this 
hunt  are  familiar  to  all,  nothing  need  be  said  of  it  here. 

Every  paper  of  that  day  was  filled  with  accounts  of  the  doings  of 
the  ducal  party  on  the  border.  Some  of  them  gave  glowing  accounts 
of  the  prowess  of  the  noble  stranger  and  went  into  Jenkins-like 
ecstacies  over  the  honor  done  to  the  country  and  the  buffalo  by  this 
sprig  of  royalty.  Other  reporters,  not  of  the  flunky  stripe,  did  not 
hesitate  to  make  game  of  the  royal  visitor  in  the  most  ludicrous 
way.  Some  of  them  asserted  that  Bill  had  to  kill  his  buffalo  for 


A PRAIRIE  FIRE  ON  THE  STAGE. 


him;  others,  that  he  only  held  them  while  Alexis  killed  them. 
Some  made  bold  to  say  that  an  old  bull  bristled  up,  and  that  the 
Bussian  hunter  incontinently  fled  from  the  scene. 

Bill  was  next  induced  by  Ned  Buntline  to  go  on  the  stage  and 
succeeded,  on  account  of  his  fame  as  a scout  and  plainsman,  in 
making  a hit.  He  was  this  year  elected  a member  of  the  Legisla- 
ture of  Nebraska.  In  the  drama  (Heaven  save  the  mark  !)  written 
by  Buntline,  Bill  entirely  forgot  his  part,  but  managed  to  “gag”  it 
sufficiently  to  get  through  and  the  audience,  who  had  not  expected 
anything,  were  not  disappointed.  Wild  Bill  joined  this  troop  in  the 


ADVENfURES  OF  BUFFALO  BILL,  §51 

Season  of  1873-4,  but  having  little  ability  to  learn  a part,  soon 
relinquished  the  profession. 

We  neglected  to  state  that  Bill  was  acting  as  guide  for  Carr  in 
1866,  when  Custer  was  killed.  Custer’s  chief  scout,  Antonie — not 
Herndon,  as  all  newspaper  accounts  have  it — was  a man  of  much 
greater  skill  and  experience  than  Cody  and  had  Custer  paid  more 
attention  to  his  advice,  the  terrible  catastrophe  on  the  Rosebud 
might  have  been  averted.  It  was  in  this  campaign  that  Cody  killed 
Yellow  Hand,  in  a duel  solicited  by  the  latter.  Yellow  Hand  was  a 
famous,  young  chief  of  the  Cheyennes  and  his  death  was  a heavy 
loss  to  the  hostile  savages.  Of  late  years  Cody’s  adventures  have 


A PRAIRIE  FIRE  ON  THE  PLAINS. 


been  confined  to  the  mimic  exploits  of  the  stage,  he  yearly  filling 
theatrical  engagements  in  the  principal  cities. 

Every  winter  finds  him  slaughtering  Indians,  baffling  villians  and 
circumventing  prairie  fires,  all  of  them  of  the  stagiest  kind  and 
utterly  unrecognizable  by  those  who  have  beheld  these  articles  in 
real  life.  His  dramas  wind  up  with  rescued  maidens,  cut-witted 
scoundrels  and  terrific  fires,  whose  glare  throws  everything  out  in  a 
strong  relief  of  red  fire  and  sulphurous  smoke,  and  the  dwellers  in 
the  metropolis  empty  themselves  out  of  pit,  parquette  and  gallery, 
firmly  convinced  that  they  have  beheld  a realistic  picture  of  life  in 


552 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


the  “far  West.”  A fire  on  the  plains,  creeping  slowly  along  amidst 
the  sparse  and  stunted  herbage,  is  one  of  the  least  exciting  of  scenes, 
though  the  novelists  and  travelers,  who  do  their  traveling  in  imagina- 
tion, have  painted  them  as  sublimely  grand  and  dangerous. 

In  the  prime  of  a life  that  has  been  filled  with  stirring  adventure, 
Buffalo  Bill  has  been  blessed  with  fame  and  fortune,  both  of  Which 
he  wears  without  arrogance  or  egotism.  His  modesty  is  fully  equal 
to  his  merit  and  his  comrades  look  without  envy  upon  the  large 
share  of  success  that  has  greeted  his  efforts.  Brave,  but  without 
any  desire  for  the  reputation  of  a “killer,”  Cody’s  fame  has  been 
somewhat  tarnished  by  those  who  have  endeavored  to  make  him  a 
participant  with  Wild  Bill  in  the  cruel  and  cowardly  deeds  of  the 
latter.  With  nothing  of  the  desperado  in  his  nature,  if  we  except 
the  short  career  of  Cody  with  the  thieves  of  Chandler,  his  life  has 
been  useful  and  blameless,  and  the  errors  of  that  time  have  been 
long  since  atoned  for  by  noble  and  daring  deeds. 


PART  III. 


The  Pacific  Slope. 


THE  EEA  OF  ADVENTURE. 


“Thou  little  know’st 

What  he  can  brave,  who,  born  and  nurst 
In  danger’s  path,  has  dared  her  worst;-* 
CJpon  whose  ear  the  signal  word 
Of  strife  and  death  is  hourly  breaking; — 
Who  sleeps  with  head  upon  the  sword, 
His  fever’d  hand  must  grasp  in  waking.’5 

MOORE. 


CHAPTER  I. 


GENERAL  HISTORY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  ITS  CONQUEST COMMERCIAL  EXPLORATIONS -EXTEND- 
ING- OUR  BOUNDARIES ANNEXATION  OF  TEXAS THE  DANGERS  OF 

ABSORPTION COMPACT  VERSUS  EXTENDED  POPULATION UNBOUNDED 

AMBITION DISEASE  AND  REMEDY CHINESE  IMMIGRATION EURO- 
PEAN PAUPERS THE  SCHOOL  OF  PENURY SQUANDERING  THE  PUBLIC 

DOMAIN OVERPOWERING  MONOPOLIES THE  GENIUS  OF  AMERICAN 

LIBERTY UNBOUNDED  LICENSE SPAIN HER  FORMER  GRANDEUR 

COLUMBUS VASCO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA DISCOVERY  OF  THE  PAC- 
IFIC  THE  JESUITS A RIPE  PLUM FIVE  WAITERS PROPHECY  OF 

DE  MOFRAS A FATAL  FACILITY ANNEXATION AMERICAN  EXPE- 
DITIONS  A TYPE  OF  THE  TIMES THE  ADVENTURER. 


In  the  American  acquisition  and  settlement  of  the  country  west 
of  the  immense  ranges  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  we  see  the  exhibi- 
tion of  a spirit,  which  differs  greatly  from  that  which  characterized 
the  two  preceding  periods  and  which  might,  with  justice,  be  called 
the  Era  of  Adventure.  By  commercial  and  trading  explorations, 
we  had  already  become  acquainted  with  the  salient  features  of  the 
country  abutting  upon  the  Eastern  edges  of  the  great  continental 
divide  and  its  immense  scope  precluded  the  idea  of  a necessity  for 
further  extending  our  boundaries,  to  accommodate  either  a future 
immigration,  or  the  increase  of  our  trade. 

Texas  had  just  been  added  to  American  territory,  and  though  its 
annexation  belonged  more  properly  to  the  California  era  than  to 
that  of  the  Mississippi  Valley,  yet  we  might  have  rested  content 
with  its  acquisition,  satisfied  that  for  all  purposes  of  colonization, 
or  of  trade,  we  possessed  a sufficiency  of  territory  for  all  time  to 
come. 

There  was  a danger,  too,  if  properly  studied,  in  thus  ignoring  utter- 
ly all  geographical  boundaries;  and  the  destruction,  by  conquest  and 
absorption  of  all  surrounding  nations,  should  have  suggested  the 
possibility  of  internal  dissensions.  The  overcrowded  hive,  no  mat- 
ter how  prosperous,  must  send  out  its  swarms  or  perish,  and  the&, 
colonies  teach  us  wisdom,  in  that  they  do  not  endeavor  to  maintain 

555 


55(3 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


close  relations  with  the  parent  swarm,  in  order  to  build  up  greater 
communities. 

In  human  life,  also,  we  find  compact  and  not  overly  populated 
nations  the  best  adapted  to  maintaining  not  only  their  independence 
against  foreign  aggressions,  but  also  against  internal  strife.  Per- 
sia, Greece,  Rome — in  fact  nearly  all  the  nations  of  antiquity — have, 
each  in  turn,  shown  us  the  pernicious  effect  of  widely  extended 
empire  and  unbounded  ambition. 

Although  we  have  passed  through  one  crisis,  caused  by  too  great 
an  accumulation  of  conflicting  interests,  yet  the  thoughtful  must 
ponder  when  they  dwell  upon  the  possibilities  that  one  or  two  hun- 
dred millions  of  population  must  bring  to  us.  Who  can  forsee  the 
clashing  interests  and  their  effects  in  multitudes  so  immense?  Who, 
in  case  of  more  than  wordy  wars  between  the  conflicting  sections, 
can  suggest  the  remedy  for  such  gigantic  feuds  as  may  then  arise  ? 

A republic  is  ever  a government  most  admirably  adapted  to  sov- 
ereign states  with  a community  of  interests,  and  at  best  it  is  but  a 
weak  factor  in  holding  together  jarring  and  discordant  elements. 
Delegated  powers  must  ever  be  used  with  the  greatest  of  care,  lest 
the  jealousy  of  the  individual  members  be  aroused,  and  hence  the 
task  is  difficult  and  delicate. 

Another  danger,  too,  menaces  in  over-population,  the  reduction 
of  wages  and  the  suffering  of  the  laborer.  Already  we  have  seen 
the  prohibition  of  Chinese  immigration  demanded,  and  yet,  as  lately 
as  1842,  we  think,  this  very  class  of  immigrants  was  solicited.  How 
long,  at  this  rate,  will  it  be  before  the  Americans  demand  that  the 
teeming  nations  of  Europe  shall  cease  to  land  upon  our  shores  not 
only  their  paupers  and  criminals,  but  also  their  laborers? 

These  views  may,  at  this  day,  seem  very  advanced,  and  yet  the 
Scandinavian  and  the  German,  trained  in  the  school  of  want  and 
penury,  are  fully  as  dangerous  competitors  to  the  native-born 
American,  as  the  rice  and  rat-eating  Chinaman.  For  these  prospec- 
tive ills  it  is  neither  our  province  nor  desire  to  suggest  a panacea, 
but  we  do  feel  that  they  are  problems  that  deserve  and  should  meet 
With  the  careful  study  of  our  legislators  and  jurists,  and  preventive 
measures,  if  possible,  adopted,  before  remedial  are  required. 

The  mawkish  sentimentalist  may  hesitate  to  lay  unpleasant  facts 
before  the  gaze  of  the  people,  and  like  the  French  King,  may  shut 
his  eyes  to  present  evils  and  solace  himself  with  the  cry:  ‘ ‘After 


GENERAL  HISTORY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


557 


us  the  flood,”  but  this  should  not  be  the  course  of  those  who,  “from 
the  nettle,  danger,  would  pluck  the  flower,  safety.” 

The  giving  of  princely  territories  to  railway  corporations;  the 
feeble  restraint  of  overpowering  monopolies;  the  colonization  of 
large  tracts  by  Europeans  who  have  but  little,  if  any  sympathy 
with  republican  institutions,  and  the  indiscriminate  landing  upon 
our  shores  of  paupers,  thieves  and  revolutionists,  may  form  the 
neuclei  of  growing  ills  that  will  eventually  undermine  the  fair  fabric 
of  liberty  and  equality  in  its  last  abiding  place. 

Judged  by  the  standard  of  other  republics,  ours  can  only  be  said 
to  be  experimental,  and  no  expedient — however  trivial — should  be 
neglected  that  will  tend  to  keep  true  to  its  course  the  proud  ship  of 
state,  that  bears  aloft  the  beacon-light  of  freedom. 

To  those  who  may  cavil  at  the  restrictions  and  limitations  neces 
sary  to  be  imposed  by  preventive  measures  looking  to  the  good  oi 
the  body  politic  and  may  say  that  these  are  not  consistent  with  the 
creed  of  “civil  and  religious  freedom,”  we  would  say  that  the 
genius  of  American  liberty  is  that  which  submits  to  its  own  pre- 
scribed boundaries,  and  that  in  no  age  or  clime  could  unbounded 
license  be  dignified  by  so  God-like  a title. 

But  let  us  pause  from  these  considerations  of  immigration  and 
population,  which  are  somewhat  foreign  to  our  prescribed  scope, 
and  take  a glance  at  the  Spain  of  the  fifteenth  century.  Here  we 
behold  a spectacle  entirely  different  from  that  which  greets  us,  if 
we  view  her  in  her  position  of  to-day.  Then  we  find  her  the 
foremost  nation  of  the  world;  her  sails  dotting  the  bosoms  or 
every  sea,  and  her  flag  the  guidon  of  conquest  and  discovery.  Wc 
find  her  soldiers  the  bravest  and  her  explorers  the  most  enterprising 
in  that  era  of  war  and  exploration. 

To  her  belongs  the  discovery  of  America  and  the  West  Indies, 
and  as  Columbus  had  first  navigated  the  American  seas  on  the  East, 
so  Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa,  toiling  up  to  the  top  of  the  highest  peak 
on  the  Isthmus  of  Darien,  first  of  all  Europeans  beheld  spread 
out  before  him  the  calm,  majestic  waters  of  the  Pacific  Ocean. 

Taking  possession  of  seas  and  shores  in  behalf  of  the  Crown  ol 
Castile,  Balboa  made  no  attempt  to  explore  the  ocean  he  had  dis 
covered,  and  though  this  discovery  occurred  in  the  year  1513,  ye  ; 
we  find  that  the  Spaniards  made  no  effort  to  colonize  California 
proper — into  which  they  had,  in  the  meantime,  made  several 


558 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


explorations — until  July  1st,  1769,  when  the  Jesuits,  from  the  penin- 
sula of  Lower  California,  founded  the  mission  of  San  Diego.  On 
the  25th  of  October  following  the  establishment  of  this  mission, 
Don  Gaspar  Portals  discovered  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco,  and  m 
June,  1775,  the  rudely  built  schooner,  the  San  Carlos , sailed  into  the 
placid  waters  of  the  Golden  Gate  and  hers  was  the  first  keel  that 


HAILING  THE  SHIP— THE  SAN  CARLOS  ENTERING  THE  GOLDEN  GATE. 


ever  ploughed  the  land-locked  bosom  of  the  bay.  Following  in  the 
wake  of  the  Jesuits  came  various  attempts  at  domination  over  “the 
slope,’  ’ but  as  these  do  not  concern  the  present  purposes  of  our  nar- 
rative, they  will  be  noticed  in  another  place. 

About  the  year  1841,  not  only  the  United  States,  but  also  Eng- 
land, France,  Spain,  and  possibly  Russia  were  looking  with  longing 


GENERAL  HISTORY  OP  CALIFORNIA. 


559 


eyes  toward  the  strip  of  fertile  territory  lying  between  the  Bocky 
Mountains  and  the  waters  of  the  Pacific  Ocean,  and  as  the  American 
Bepublic  had  not  then  attained  to  its  present  power,  or  celerity  of 
action,  it  was  difficult  to  say  into  whose  lap  it  would  fall.  To 
show  how  evenly  it  hung  in  the  balance,  it  is  only  necessary  to 
quote  the  words  of  M.  Duflot  de  Mofras,  who  at  that  time,  in  a 
communication  to  his  government,  says : “It  is  perfectly  clear  that 
California  will  belong  to  whatsoever  nation  will  take  the  trouble  to 
send  there  a ship  of  war  and  two  hundred  soldiers.’ * 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  aspect  of  the  country,  or  its  readi- 
ness to  fall,  like  a ripe  plum,  into  the  grasp  of  any  one  who  might 
want  it,  one  thing  is  very  evident,  and  that  is,  that  the  United  States, 
with  its  fatal  facility  of  annexation,  had  certainly  at  this  time  an 
eye  upon  the  acquisition  of  the  country  west  of  the  mountains.  It 
was  undoubtedly  with  this  design  in  view,  that  Fremont  was  dis- 
patched upon  his  two  overland  expeditions  in  1842  and  1843.  The 
leader  of  these  expeditions,  John  C.  Fremont,  was  as  typical  of  his 
time,  as  Daniel  Boone  was  of  his,  and  his  type  was  that  of  the 
adventurer. 


CHAPTER  II. 


JOHN  C.  FREMONT. 


AT  THE  HEAD  OF  ANOTHER  CALIFORNIA  EXPEDITION STIRRING  TIMES THE 

OREGON  TRAIL AMERICAN  IMMIGRANTS APPROPRIATED  EXPERIENCE 

AT  MONTEREY A DESCRIPTION  OF  FREMONT HIS  BIRTH MAR- 
RIAGE  LONGING  FOR  NOTORIETY WANT  OF  DIGNITY UNBOUNDED 

EGOTISM HIS  COLLISION  WITH  GENERAL  KEARNEY CASTRO’S  DUPLIC- 
ITY  HIS  THREATS FREMONT’S  ANSWER THE  AMERICANS  FORTIFY 

A MEXICAN  ATTACK A WAR  OF  WORDS A BATTLE  WITHOUT  A 

CORPSE WINDY  CASTRO OREGON LAKE  KLAMATH SURPRISED  BY 

INDIANS RETURN  TO  CALIFORNIA LIEUTENANT  GILLISPIE MER- 

SITE’S  CAPTURE VALLGO  TAKEN IDE’s  PROCLAMATION THE  BEAR 

FLAG FREMONT  APPOINTED  GOVERNOR ALONG  CHASE COMMODORE 

SLOAT ADMIRAL  SEYMOUR A SAILING  MATCH SLOAT  WINS 

LARKIN’S  INFORMATION SLOAT’S  PROCLAMATION A DISAPPOINTED 

COMMANDER A POTENT  ADZE THE  GOLDEN  HARVEST A TRUE 

PROPHET. 


In  1846  California  was  in  the  condition  of  a moribund  body, 
around  which  the  vultures  were  gathering  in  increasing  numbers, 
ready  to  swoop  down  upon  the  banquet  spread  helpless  before  them. 
Before  the  coming  storm  the  last  Spanish  galleon  had  hoisted  her 
sails  and  fled ; nothing  worthy  the  name  of  trade  existed  in  the  State, 
and  every  infant  industry  was  paralyzed  by  the  political  aspect  of 
the  times.  English,  French  and  American  men  of  war  hovered 
suspiciously  about  the  seaports  and  it  was  evident  to  all  that  a crisis 
was  rapidly  approaching. 

Having  escaped  the  famine  and  death  by  freezing,  which  his  poor 
judgment  had  so  nearly  brought  upon  himself  and  his  men,  in  the 
winter  of  1843-44,  Fremont  had  been  again  put  at  the  head  of  a 
California  expedition,  in  1845,  ostensibly  to  search  out  the  most 
available  mountain  passes  to  open  a route  for  the  handful  of  Ameri- 
can immigrants  who  were  then  settling  on  the  Columbia  River,  in 
Oregon. 

Utilizing  the  knowledge  and  experience  of  Kit  Carson  and  other 
old  plainsmen,  Fremont  arrived,  after  a somewhat  hazardous  journey, 
within  a hundred  miles  of  the  seaport  of  Monterey,  at  that  time  the 
capital  of  California.  Right  here  it  might  be  well  to  describe  the 

560 


JOHN  C.  FREMONT. 


5G1 


leader  of  this  expedition,  destined  to  prove  so  momentous  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  Pacific  Slope.  Fremont  was  once  not  inaptly  described 
as  “a  mass  of  contradictions.”  Some  one  said  of  him,  that  “he 
was  a Southern  man  with  Northern  feelings ; a statesman  without 
a policy  ; a general  who  had  never  won  a battle,  and  a capitalist  with- 
out a dollar.” 

A little  later  it  might  have  been  added  that  he  was  a free  man, 
while  under  sentence  of  imprisonment  to  the  galleys  in  France. 

To  complete  a description  of  the  man  in  a few  words,  it  is  only 
necessary  to  say,  that  he  was  born  in  Savannah,  Georgia,  on  the  21st 
day  of  January,  1813.  A man  of  but  moderate  attainments,  but  of 
graceful  carriage  and  smooth  address,  he  became  somewhat  noted  on 
account  of  his  marriage  to  Jessie  Benton,  with  whom  he  was  more 
of  a favorite  than  with  her  father,  the  haughty  old  Senator  who 
for  thirty  years  represented  the  State  of  Missouri  in  the  Upper 
House  of  the  American  Congress. 

His  craving  seemed  to  be  rather  for  notoriety  than  glory,  and  he 
was  ever  ready  to  stoop  to  dangerous  measures  to  satisfy  this  thirst. 
He  seems  utterly  wanting  in  the  patient  industry  which  character- 
izes genius,  and  thrown  upon  his  own  resources,  was  ever  as  helpless 
as  a bark  without  compass  or  rudder.  Seeking  rather  the  applause 
of  the  mob  than  the  approbation  of  the  thinking  classes,  we  find 
him  loudly  defended  by  the  one  and  as  silently  condemned  by  the 
other. 

That  he  was  cool  in  danger,  bold  and  determined,  all  are  willing 
to  admit,  but  he  wanted  the  calm  dignity  of  judgment  that  intu- 
itively sees  the  proper  method  at  the  proper  time,  and  wanting  this, 
was  led  into  a thousand  follies.  Had  his  modesty  been  equal  to  his 
courage,  the  respect  of  all  men  would  have  been  his.  Had  not  his 
egotism  been  unbounded,  he  would  have  avoided  all  collision  with 
Kearney,  his  superior  officer,  while  in  California,  and  his  subsequent 
degradation  would  not  have  occurred. 

The  victim  of  an  “o’erleaping  ambition,”  he  fully  exemplifies  the 
value  of  Woolsey’s  advice  to  Cromwell,  in  regard  to  that  dangerous 
quality;  an  advice  which,  if  it  had  been  properly  appreciated  by 
Fremont,  might  have  prevented  his  melancholy  wreck. 

Arriving  at  the  point  mentioned,  he  went  in  person  to  General 
Castro,  in  charge  at  that  time  of  California,  and  sought  permission 
to  go  to  the  San  Joaquin  Valley  to  recuperate  his  men  and  stock 


562 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Castro  gave  a verbal  promise,  “on  the  honor  of  a (Mexican)  soldier,” 
that  Fremont  and  his  men  would  not  be  molested,  but  the  latter  had 
no  sooner  reached  the  locality,  than  Castro  sent  them  word  to  leave 
the  country  under  pain  of  death. 

Returning  the  answer,  that  he  would  depart  when  it  suited  his 
convenience,  the  American  entrenched  his  motley  crew  on  the  top  of 
Hank’s  Peak  and  raised  aloft  the  stars  and  stripes.  Castro,  with  all 
“the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  glorious  war,”  came  on  to  the 
attack  with  three  hundred  infantry,  cavalry  and  artillery,  but  after 
four  days  of  dashing  “up  the  hill  and  down  again,”  in  all  of  which 
he  took  good  care  not  to  get  within  rifle  shot  of  the  Americans,  he 
drew  off  his  forces,  satisfied  with  having  issued  the  bloodiest  procla- 
mations and  more  of  them  than  any  man  in  California  in  the  same 
length  of  time. 

Not  a single  corpse  on  either  side  lent  a reality  to  this  suppositi- 
tious siege,  and  Castro  withdrew  to  Monterey.  The  honors — what  of 
them  there  were — rested  with  Fremont,  and  he  now  proceeded  to 
Oregon  and  encamped  on  Lake  Klamath.  Here  he  was  overtaken 
by  Lieut.  Gillespie,  who  had  left  Washington  with  dispatches, 
reaching  Monterey  by  U.  S.  Sloop  of  War  and  following  Fremont’s 
trail  into  Oregon.  On  the  same  day  with  the  dispatches  came  a 
night  attack  of  Indians,  in  which  three  of  Fremont’s  Delawares 
were  slain,  and  this  quickened  the  return  to  the  valley  of  the  Sacra- 
mento, where  the  force  encamped  at  the  mouth  of  Feather  River. 

Here  the  setlers  flocked  to  them,  and  with  twelve  of  these  vol- 
unteers Mr.  Mersite  captured  the  Mexican  fort  at  Sonoma,  where 
they  found  nine  cannon  and  two  hundred  and  fifty  stands  of  small 
arms.  Here,  also,  they  captured  no  less  a person  than  Gen.  Val- 
lejo, and  took  him  to  Sutter’s  Fort  for  safe  keeping. 

The  Americans  having  caught  the  Mexican  fever  for  pronuncia- 
mentos,  William  B.  Ide — who  had  been  left  in  charge  at  Sonoma — 
called  on  the  people  to  assemble  and  organize  a republican  govern- 
ment. The  flag  of  the  new  republic,  which  was  then  thrown  to  the 
breeze,  was  a square  of  white  cotton  cloth,  on  which  a very  ram- 
pant grizzly  bear  had  been  painted.  This  flag  is  still  preserved  in 
the  archives  of  the  “Pioneer  Society”  at  San  Francisco.  Gen. 
Castro,  hearing  of  these  events,  swore  that  the  wolves  of  his  native 
California  should  fatten  upon  the  corpses  of  the  hated  Gringos , and 
Fremont,  who  was  all  this  time  at  Sutter’s  Fort,  went  with  ninety 


JOHN  C.  FREMONT. 


563 


men  to  aid  Ide,  having  learned  Castro  was  moving  against  him  with 
a large  force.  Reaching  Sonoma  on  the  4th  of  July,  1846,  Fre- 
mont was  appointed  Governor,  issued  a proclamation  of  independ- 
ence, and  declared  war  against  Mexico — certainly  a sufficiency  of 


business  for  one  day.  Marching  next  with  one  hundred  and  sixty 
men  to  attack  Castro  at  Sutter’s,  they  learned  that  he  was  in  full 
retreat  to  Los  Angeles,  five  hundred  miles  distant,  and  they  deter- 
mined to  follow. 


564 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


While  these  stirring  events  were  transpiring  in  the  interior,  Com- 
modore Sloat — while  lying  with  the  American  frigate  Savannah  and 
sloop  Preble,  in  the  Mexican  port  of  Mazatlan — heard  of  the  annex- 
ation of  Texas  and  the  war  between  Mexico  and  the  United  States. 


Gen.  Zachary  Taylor,  or  as  he  was  fully  as  well  known  “Old  Rough 
and  Ready,”  was  marching  upon  the  City  of  Mexico  and  Mata- 
moras  had  already  been  occupied  by  United  States  troops.  These 
details  were  given  by  the  Mexican  officials  to  Admiral  Seymour, 


JOHN  C.  FREMONT. 


565 


Commander  of  the  British  man-of-war,  Collingwood,  who  was  also 
with  his  ship  lying  in  the  harbor  of  Mazatlan. 

The  Mexicans  hoped,  that  by  this  information  the  British  would 
be  enabled  to  seize  California  before  the  Americans  could  do  so,  but 
the  information  they  designed  to  be  strictly  confidential  leaked  out 
in  some  way,  and  when  the  Collingwood  moved  out  to  sea,  Sloat 
made  ready  for  a cruise  and  crowding  on  all  sail,  steered  for  Monte- 
rey. Instructions  were  even  then  on  the  way  to  Sloat,  telling  him 
to  seize  Monterey,  Mazatlan,  and  San  Francisco,  but  without  any 
knowledge  of  that  fact,  the  spirit  of  the  time  had  decided  him  to 
take  that  very  course. 

Once  at  sea,  it  was  a race  as  to  which  should  first  make  Monterey, 
and  thanks  to  the  admirable  sailing  qualities  of  our  vessels,  which 
then  beat  those  of  all  the  world,  but  whose  glory  has  now,  alas  ! 
departed,  the  Savannah  was  first  to  reach  port  and  Sloat  learned 
that  the  Mexicans  were  endeavoring  to  place  California  in  the  hands 
of  the  English.  Thomas  0.  Larkin,  American  Consul  at  the  port, 
gave  this  information,  and  the  Commodore  determined  on  the  bold 
measure  of  sending  on  shore  two  hundred  and  fifty  marines  who 
hoisted  the  American  flag,  saluted  it  with  twenty-one  guns  and  pro- 
claimed California  American  territory. 

The  slow-sailing  Collingwood,  when  she  entered  the  harbor,  saw 
the  American  flag  proudly  waving  in  the  breeze,  and  her  com- 
mander first  realized  how  so  unimportant  a thing  as  a carpenter’s 
adze,  on  the  banks  of  an  English  river,  may  assist  in  hewing  out 
the  destinies  of  a nation,  and  to  feel  that  the  heavy  fancy  of  a naval 
architect  had  robbed  his  country  of  a territory,  whose  lands  and 
rivers  teemed  with  a wealth  far  greater  than  the  golden  sands  of 
far-famed  Pactolus. 

These  events  happened  on  the  7th  of  July;  on  the  8th,  Sloat  had 
the  American  flag  raised  over  San  Francisco  and  on  the  10th  the 
stars  and  stripes  replaced  Ide’s  rampant  bear  over  the  fort  at  Sonoma. 
Thus  was  the  annexation  of  California  completed,  and  never  before 
in  the  history  of  nations,  was  so  rich  a conquest  effected  at  so  small 
a cost.  The  prophetic  Frenchman,  DeMofras,  was  right;  the  plum 
was  ready  to  drop  and  the  United  States,  sending  the  first  man-of- 
war  with  its  two  hundred  marines,  had  reaped  the  golden  harvest. 


CHAPTER  in. 


A RAPID  CONQUEST. 


STOCKTON  IN  COMMAND GENERAL  KEARNEY FREMONT  SNUBBED 

CHANGE  OF  OFFICERS STOCKTON  AND  FREMONT CASTRO  AND  COM- 
PANY  STOCKTON’S  ABILITY CASTRO  WEAKENS INSUBORDINATION 

A POMPOUS  LIEUTENANT TRIMS  HIS  SAILS KEARNEY  AS  GOV- 
ERNOR  THE  SETTING  SUN A SHORT  REIGN FREMONT  IN  DIS- 

GRACE  COURT-MARTIALED RUNS  FOR  PRESIDENT DEFEATED 

FREMONT’S  COURSE  CONSIDERED DESERVING  OF  CENSURE LEN- 

IENTLY TREATED RESIGNS GOLDEN  OPPORTUNITIES WHAT  MIGHT 

HAVE  BEEN A DISPUTED  QUESTION A STUBBORN  FACT THE  FOR- 

GOTTON  MAN ONCE  MORE  TO  THE  FRONT A MELANCHOLY  FAIL- 
URE  MEXICAN  REVOLUTIONS SPANISH  JESUITS ISAAC  GRAHAM, 

THE  CALIFORNIA  PIONEER HIS  ADVENTURES ALVARADO HOY/ 

HE  REWARDS  GRAHAM  LONG  IMPRISONMENT MICHELTORENA 

COMMODORE  JONES CASTRO IDE’S  REPUBLIC RAPID  CHANGES 

POPULATION  IN  1848 SAN  FRANCISCO  IN  1842 FOREIGNERS THE 

FIRST  NEWSPAPER THE  FIRST  PUBLIC  SCHOOL PIONEER  EDITORS 

THE  FIRST  PROTESTANT  CHURCH. 


Commodore  Stockton  replaced  Commodore  Sloat  a week  later, 
(July  15th),  but  he,  as  well  as  General  Kearney,  who  came  across 
from  Mew  Mexico  overland,  found  the  conquest  an  accomplished 
fact,  though  the  latter  had  some  severe  fighting  to  do — about  all  of 
it,  in  fact,  that  was  done.  Fremont,  basking  in  the  sunshine  of 
popularity,  had  been  ordered  by  Sloat  to  report  to  him  at  Monterey 
and  great  was  his  chagrin,  but  he  obeyed  with  as  good  a grace  as 
possible,  and  was  doubtless  delighted  when,  so  soon  after,  ill  health 
compelled  the  arbitrary  naval  officer  to  return  to  the  United  States, 
after  formally  turning  over  his  command  to  Commodore  Stockton, 
who  immediately  appointed  himself  Military  Governor  of  the  State. 
Stockton  made  Fremont  a Major,  and  gave  him  command  of  a bat- 
talion of  mounted  infantry 

Castro,  the  man  of  many  proclamations,  assisted  by  Governor 
Pico  and  Flores,  was  employed  in  organizing  a strong  opposition  to 
the  Americans ; enlisting,  among  others,  many  of  the  priest-ridden 
Pueblos,  who  would  make  a gaudy  show  in  a parade,  but  in  a fight 
would  prove  of  as  little  use  as  Mexicans  or  Chinamen.  This  oppo- 
sition was  finally  quieted ; in  part,  no  doubt,  by  the  great  ability 

_ 566 


I 


A RAPID  CONQUEST.  567 

Commodore  Stockton  developed  in  the  proclamation  line ; the  follow  - 
ing  sentence  being  a mild  sample  of  his  efforts  in  this  direction : 
“Tell  Castro  he  must  unconditionally  surrender,  or  experience  my 
vengeance.” 

Unable  to  withstand  the  fulmination  of  these  wordy  bomb  shells, 
Flores  fled  to  Mexico,  and  the  others  surrendered  at  discretion  to 
Fremont.  The  major  now,  with  a degree  of  impudence  that  doubt- 
less shocked  General  Kearney  as  much  as  Commodore  Stockton,  pro- 
ceeded to  make  a treaty  with  the  enemy,  without  consulting,  in  the 
slightest  particular,  either  of  his  superior  officers,  thus  showing  the 
cool  audacity  of  the  adventurer,  as  well  as  his  utter  ignorance  of, 
or  contempt  for  all  military  etiquette  and  subordination. 

In  the  squabble  between  Kearney  and  Stockton,  over  which  out- 
ranked the  other,  this  breach  of  etiquette  was  overlooked,  and  Fre- 
mont cut  the  Gordian  Knot  of  the  military  situation,  with  his  usual 
cool  assumption,  by  reporting  to  Stockton,  as  commanding  officer. 
Of  course  he  was  shrewd  enough  to  see  that  if  he  reported  to  Kear- 
ney, the  major  immediately  sank  to  his  proper  station  under  the 
general;  while  on  the  other  hand,  he  might  reap  power  and  glory 
from  the  commodore’s  gratitude.  Reporting  to  Stockton  on  the 
14th  of  January,  1847,  (for  it  had  taken  some  months  to  quiet  the 
proclamating  Mexicans,)  Fremont  was  appointed  Military  Governor 
two  days  later  and  shortly  after,  Stockton  sailed  to  the  coast  of 
Mexico. 

Kearney,  however,  was  not  the  man  to  submit  to  an  indignity 
with  complacency,  and  making  his  way  to  Monterey,  he  found  there 
Commodore  Shubrick  of  the  frigate  Independence,  who  had  been 
appointed  Supervisor  of  Customs,  Naval  Inspector,  etc.  Kearney 
exhibited  his  credentials  from  the  United  States  Government,  as 
Military  Governor,  and  the  two,  pooling  issues,  set  forth  their 
claims  to  authority  in  one  of  the  usual  proclamations ; Kearney  tak- 
ing good  care  to  forward  one  of  these  interesting  documents  to 
Fremont,  and  the  latter  saw  with  anguish  the  star  of  his  destiny 
once  more  overclouded  and  his  brief  reign  as  Military  Governor  of 
California  at  an  end. 

Kearney  in  turn  reigned  but  a short  time ; his  orders  and  athority 
having  only  been  intended  to  be  temporary,  and  he  was  superce- 
' Ad  by  Colonel  Mason,  who  had  come  from  Washington  with  orders 


568 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


to  “relieve  General  Kearney,  and  take  military  command.”  Gen- 
eral Kearney  started  back  across  “the  plains,”  June  19th,  1847, 
and  he  compelled  Fremont  to  turn  over  his  matters  and  follow  him. 
It  is  said  that  he  would  not  allow  Fremont  to  camp  with  him,  nor 
more  than  a mile  from  him,  on  this  overland  journey. 

At  Leavenworth,  Fremont  was  arrested,  taken  to  Fortress  Monroe 
and  court-martialed  for  mutiny,  unsoldierly  conduct,  etc.  The  com- 
mission found  him  guilty  and  sentenced  him  to  forfeit  his  rank. 
James  K.  Polk — then  President  of  the  United  States — was  obliged 
to  approve  of  this  finding,  but  he  kindly  discharged  Fremont  from 
arrest  and  ordered  him  to  report  for  duty.  Fremont,  considering 
himself  a greatly  abused  man,  or  rather,  a great  man  abused, 
resigned  from  the  army,  and  in  1857,  headed  the  republican  ticket 
for  president,  and  was  defeated. 

A great  many  have  considered  Fremont  ill  treated  in  this  matter, 
but  the  truth  is,  that  his  course  certainly  deserved  censure,  if  noth- 
ing more.  Of  what  avail  the  regulations  of  an  army,  if  they  are  to 
be  disregarded  at  the  whim  of  every  individual  who  might  fancy 
himself  a great  man  ? 

His  whole  course  in  California  was  that  of  a bold,  unscrupulous 
and  unsafe  adventurer,  and  his  assumption  of  the  office  of  Military 
Governor,  in  opposition  to  Kearney,  whom  he  knew  to  be  commis- 
sioned as  such  by  his  government,  most  certainly  deserved  a court- 
martial  and  the  loss  of  his  commission,  if  not  a more  severe  punish- 
ment. His  folly,  years  after,  when  entrusted  with  much  more 
important  commands,  proved  him  incompetent,  tyrannical  and  with 
the  aristocratic  tendencies  of  an  Eastern  satrap,  rather  than  the 
plain  simplicity  of  a republican  Major  General. 

His  disreputable  transactions  in  Paris,  France,  with  regard  to 
certain  American  railway  securities,  subjected  to  arrest  and  impris- 
onment Baron  Gualdree-Boileau,  (who,  like  Fremont,  had  also  mar- 
ried a daughter  of  Senator  Thomas  Benton.)  Fremont,  at  the  insti- 
tution of  criminal  proceedings,  having  flown  from  France  to  escape 
a similar  fate,  has  never  since  dared  to  revisit  that  country.  Never 
were  more  golden  and  glorious  opportunities  thrown  in  the  pathway 
of  any  man,  to  be  frittered  away  by  incompetence,  and  a sacrifice 
of  everytnmg  to  a vain-glorious  love  of  show  and  notoriety. 

As  to  who  was  the  conqueror  of  California,  about  which  there  has 
been  so  much  dispute,  that  point  is  easily  settled,  and  the  honor 


A RAPID  CONQUEST. 


509 


should  be  awarded  to  Sloat,  though  it  must  be  confessed  that  his 
sole  merit  consisted  in  his  boldness  of  determination  and  celerity  of 
movement.  The  plain  truth  of  the  matter  is,  that  the  conquest  of 
California,  as  has  been  shown,  was  no  conquest,  but  an  almost 
bloodless  annexation. 

What  “might  have  been,”  had  the  Collingwood  first  reached  the 
port  of  Monterey,  is  luckily  a matter  of  speculation,  though  no  sensi- 
ble person  can  truly  deny,  that  the  prompt  action  of  Sloat  put  it  out 
of  the  power  of  England  to  interfere  in  the  matter  and,  too,  no  one 
will  dispute  the  fact  that  that  interference  would  have  put  a vastly 
different  aspect  on  the  acquisition  of  this  territory. 

In  conclusion,  so  far  as  his  career  in  California  is  concerned,  the 
generally  admitted  idea  that  Fremont  first  hoisted  the  American  flag, 
in  a warlike  attitude,  in  that  State,  is  entirely  false,  for  that  honor 
belongs  neither  to  him  nor  to  Sloat,  but  to  that  gallant,  old  sea-dog, 
Commodore  Jones,  who  on  the  19th  day  of  October,  1842,  took  pos- 
session of  California  in  the  name  of  the  United  States,  and  raised  the 
stars  and  stripes  at  Monterey.  A day  later,  finding  that  he  had  been 
a little  premature,  he  hauled  down  his  flag,  apologized  for  his  action, 
boarded  his  vessel  and  sailed  out  to  sea. 

The  campaign  cry,  in  1857,  of  “Free  Soil,  Free  Men,  Fremont,” 
failed  to  enthuse  the  masses  and  the  presidential  dream  of  “the 
Pathfinder”  passed  away,  as  had  so  many  others  that  floated  across 
that  impracticable  mind,  and  he  solaced  himself  with  gigantic  but  vis- 
ionary speculations;  at  one  moment  a millionaire,  at  the  next  a pau- 
per. In  a constant  state  of  impecuniosity,  the  money  necessary  for 
floating  these  airy  schemes  was  contributed  by  men  whose  faith  out- 
balanced their  judgment  and  who,  generally,  in  return  for  their  cash, 
had  to  pocket  a vast  amount  of  experience  of  doubtful  value 

For  a longtime  Fremont  had  sunk  from  view  as  a public  person- 
age when,  in  1861,  the  mad  passions  of  the  politicians  fanned  into 
fierce  flames  the  slumbering  embers  of  sectional  discord,  and  strange 
and  fantastic  shapes  came  to  the  front,  as  actors  in  the  coming  con- 
test, whose  lurid  scenes  form  a grand  but  melancholy  spectacle  in  the 
drama  of  American  history. 

Amongst  others,  Fremont,  the  forgotten  man,  loomed  into  tem- 
porary prominence  as  the  probable  hero  and  savior  of  the  Union, 
but  his  promise  ended  in  naught.  A failure  as  commander  of  the 
Department  of  the  South-west,  he  was  transferred  to  the  Valley  of 


570 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Virginia,  where  he  cut  a still  sorrier  figure  as  the  opponent  of  Stone- 
wall Jackson,  one  of  the  grandest  military  men  developed  on  either 
side  during  the  war. 

But  all  this  portion  of  his  life  forms  a part  of  the  history  of  his 
country  and  we  shall  not  attempt  to  give  a detailed  account  of  it. 
After  the  war  he  dabbled,  with  melancholy  effect,  in  American  rail- 
way speculations  in  France,  and  had  to  fly  the  country.  Returning 
to  his  native  land  a broken  and  ruined  man,  he  was  provided  by  his 
party  with  the  position  of  territorial  governor  of  Arizona,  which 
office  he  still  holds,  one  of  the  most  melancholy  wrecks  that  strew 
the  shores  of  American  politics  and  speculation. 

We  have  seen  how  easily  the  conquest  of  California  had  been 
effected,  and  looking  back  beyond  that  era,  we  find  an  uneventful 
succession  of  revolutions,  pronunciamentos  and  other  of  the  politi- 
cal movements  peculiar  to  the  descendants  of  the  Spaniards  in 
America.  These  proclamations  were  generally  bombastic,  but 
harmless  and  the  revolutions  more  productive  of  words  than  blood, 
still  they  afforded  to  the  inhabitants  a regular,  and  not  dangerous, 
succession  of  amusements. 

To  effect  one  of  these  revolutions,  it  was  only  necessary  to  get 
together  a dozen  and  a half  of  men,  poorly  equipped  and  worse 
armed,  and  a leader  familiar  with  all  the  sonorous,  fierce  and  high- 
sounding  words  of  the  Spanish  language,  and  the  thing  was  accom- 
plished. The  pronunciamento  was  the  most  formidable  weapon 
employed,  and  it  was  dragged  into  action  as  often  as  possible. 

First,  the  Spanish  Jesuit  dominating  the  native  tribes,  then  the 
Spanish  Franciscan  overturning  Jesuit  dictation,  then  the  Mexican 
government  pushing  out  Spanish  rule  was  the  order  of  succession. 
Next  we  find  Russia  obtaining  a feeble  footing  on  this  golden  terri- 
tory, and  as  early  as  1836  comes  the  first  American  intermeddler. 
His  name  was  Isaac  Graham  and,  as  was  eminently  proper,  he  was 
a Tennesseean ; an  offshoot  of  the  old  pioneer  stock,  who  had  inher- 
ited a love  of  adventure  and  danger  that  had  thus  early  carried  him 
across  the  Rocky  Mountains  as  a trapper  and  hunter  and  made  him 
a fixture  in  this  strange  land. 

To  his  cabin  in  the  mountains  of  Santa  Cruz,  fled  Alvarado,  to 
escape  arrest  at  the  hands  of  his  chief,  Ramirez.  He  could  not  have 
found  a happier  refuge,  for  Graham  not  only  gave  him  shelter,  but, 
like  a true  adventurer,  formed  a plan  for  overturning  the  rule  of 


571 


A.  PAPID  CONQUEST. 

Bamirez  and  Mexican  authority  together  and  proclaiming  Califor- 
nia a free  State — after  the  manner  of  the  American  States — with 
Alvarado  at  its  head. 

Danger  could  not  deter,  nor  numbers  terrify  this  pioneer  of  lib- 
erty on  the  Pacific  Slope,  and  procuring  a supply  of  ammunition 
from  the  American  vessels  on  the  coast,  he  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  fifty  riflemen  and  aided  by  Alvarado  and  Jose  Castro,  with 
about  one  hundred  native  Californians,  entered  Monterey  at  night, 


sent  a four-pound  shot  crashing  through  the  house  of  Gutierrez, 
(acting  Governor),  as  a salute,  and  captured  him  and  some  three 
hundred  soldiers.  The  thing  was  accomplished — the  revolution 
effected  and  only  one  shot  had  been  fired.  The  proclamation  was 
then  immediately  loaded  up  and  touched  off. 

Graham’s  idea  was  carried  out,  so  far  as  proclaiming  California 
an  independent  State  with  Alvarado  as  civil  and  Yallejo  as  military 
governor.  To  show  the  amount  of  toleration  of  which  the  Mexican 
mind  was  capable,  all  religions  were  interdicted,  except  the  Catholic 


572 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


Alvarado,  not  meeting  with  ready  recognition  from  the  masses, 
was  recognized  by  the  Mexican  government  and  in  turn,  submitted 
the  State  again  to  Mexican  rule.  Graham’s  reward  for  placing  this 
creature  in  power,  as  well  as  for  affording  him  shelter  when  in  dis- 
tress, was  to  be  arrested  and  sent  to  the  City  of  Mexico  a prisoner. 
Here  he  was  held  until  July,  1842,  and  only  then  released  at  the 
intercession  of  the  English  consul  and  other  foreign  officials. 

Micheltorena  now  succeeded  Alvarado.  It  was  in  the  interregnum 
between  the  stepping  out  of  Alvarado  and  the  stepping  in  of  his  suc- 
cessor that  Commodore  Jones  captured  the  State  and  held  it  for 


GUTIERREZ  CAPTURED  BY  GRAHAM. 


twenty-four  hours.  Castro  next  effected  a revolution,  appointing 
Pio  Pico  civil  governor  and  proclaiming  California  again  an  inde- 
pendent State.  Castro’s  republic,  as  we  have  already  seen,  was 
supplanted  by  that  of  the  Rampant  Bear,  and  that,  a few  days  later, 
by  absorption  into  the  United  States. 

Mason,  who  succeeded  Kearney,  continued  in  office  two  years 
and  on  the  13th  day  of  April,  1849,  was  succeeded  by  General  Riley, 
who  administered  affairs  until  the  9th  day  of  September,  1850, 
when  California  was  admitted  into  the  Union.  To  show  how  much 
California  had  been  governed  from  first  to  last,  we  need  only  state 


A RAPID  CONQUEST. 


573 


that  under  Spanish  rule — lasting  fifty-five  years — she  had  ten  gov- 
ernors; under  Mexican  dominion,  a period  of  twenty-four  years, 
she  had  thirteen  governors  and  under  the  four  years  of  American 
military  rule,  they  numbered  six. 

Under  the  beneficent  administration  of  the  Americans,  every 
branch  of  trade,  every  healthful  industry  began  to  flourish,  though 
it  is  doubtful  if  anything,  save  the  discovery  of  gold  within  her 
borders,  could  have  added,  in  fifty  years,  the  population  and  the 
commerce  which  California  acquired  in  four.  In  1848  the  entire 
wThite  population  of  all  nations,  in  California,  amounted  to  not  more 
than  fourteen  thousand  and  in  San  Francisco,  in  1842,  the  popula- 
tion was  one  hundred  and  ninety-six,  including  in  the  count  men, 
women  and  children. 

The  foreigners,  in  this  motley  group,  were  ten  Americans,  four 
Sandwich  Islanders,  four  Englishmen,  two  Irishmen,  two  Germans, 
and  France,  Peru,  Scotland  and  Manilla  furnished  one  each.  The 
'first  newspaper  published  in  San  Francisco  was  the.  “California 
Star;  ” the  first  published  in  California  was  the  “California,”  estab- 
lished in  Monterey,  August  15th,  1846.  E.  P.  Jones  edited  the 
former;  Colton  & Semple  the  latter.  In  1848,  San  Francisco  had  a 
population  of  eight  hundred  and  fifty,  and  on  April  3d,  of  this  year, 
Thomas  Douglass  opened  the  first  public  school.  This  year  the  first 
steamer  entered  the  harbor  of  San  Francisco,  and  the  first  Protestant 
church  was  built. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE  GOLD  DELIRIUM. 


THE  DISCOVERY  OF  GOLD MARSHALL’S  CUT SUTTER’S  MILL THE  LAND 

OF  PROMISE ISAAC  HUMPHREYS “PAY  DIRT” ALADIN’S  LAMP 

BACCHANALIAN  ORGIES A COMMON  CENTER A GOLDEN  KEY 

SWARMING  CHINAMEN THE  MAN  FROM  PIKE “JOE  BOWERS” 

LEECH-LIKE  PARASITES THE  POPULATION  DOUBLED BY  SEA  AND 

SHORE THE  MARCH  TO  THE  MINES DESERTED  SHIPS AN  ENCHANTED 

COUNTRY STAMPEDES RECKLESS  DISSIPATIONS GAMBLING  AND 

DRINKING  BOUTS “SOILED  DOVES” HARD  LUCK “GOD’S  COUNTRY” 

SHIPWRECK DEATHS  AT  SEA CUT  OFF  BY  SAVAGES DEATH  BY 

FAMINE THE  TRAIL  OF  SKELETONS FABULOUS  PRICES A SPECULA- 
TION IN  CARPETING A SUDDEN  FORTUNE. 


The  year  1848  was  a momentous  one  for  California,  for  this  was 
the  date  of  the  discovery  of  gold  in  the  State.  This  took  place  at 
Sutter’s  Mill,  on  the  American  River,  as  early  as  January  19th, 
1848,  but  no  news  of  it  reached  San  Francisco  until  February,  1849. 
Then  followed  a furore,  such  as  the  world  had  never  before  seen 
and  this  was  not  confined  to  the  limits  of  California,  or  the  Ameri- 
can continent,  but  sent  its  thrill  into  the  remotest  corners  of  the 
earth  and  caused  the  hearts  of  all  to  beat  with  feverish  excitement. 
Every  eye  was  turned  to  California  as  the  land  of  promise  and 
suddenly  all  ways  seemed  to  lead  to  her  golden  shores. 

But  let  us  see  how  this  discovery  came  about.  In  1839  an  adven- 
turous native  of  Switzerland,  John  A.  Sutter — who  had  lived  for 
some  time  in  Saline  County,  Missouri — arrived  in  California  and, 
amongst  other  enterprises,  began  in  1847  the  erection  of  a saw- 
mill, some  fifty  miles  east  of  Sacramento,  at  a place  called  Coloma, 
on  the  American  River.  James  W.  Marshall,  who  had  contracted 
to  build  this  mill,  cut  a race  January,  1848,  and  turned  the  waters 
of  the  river  through  it,  in  order  the  sooner  to  widen  and  deepen  his 
cut.  When  this  object  had  been  effected  and  the  water  had  been 
turned  off,  he  noticed  some  yellow  particles  amongst  the  sand  and 
picked  up  a number  of  them,  one  of  them  weighing  several  penny- 
weights. 


574 


THE  GOLD  DELIRIUM. 


575 


Convinced  that  it  was  g )ld,  Marshall  showed  it  to  Sutter,  who 
only  laughed  at  him.  Thi  ridicule  had  no  effect  on  Marshall,  who 
in  February,  1848,  took  some  of  the  “stuff”  to  San  Francisco, 
where  it  was  seen  by  Isaa  3 Humphrey,  an  old  gold  miner  from  the 
State  of  Georgia. 

Humphrey  promptly  pronounced  it  gold  and  got  ready  to  start 
immediately  to  the  gold  fields.  None  of  his  incredulous  companions 
could  be  induced  to  join  him  in  his  “wild  goose  chase,”  as  they 
termed  it,  and  starting  alone,  he  reached  the  golden  mill-race  March 
7th,  1848,  and  began  prospecting  the  next  day.  He  soon  succeeded 
in  striking  “pay  dirt,”  and  the  mill  hands  took  the  fever. 

Work  was  at  a stand-still,  but  the  diggings  were  paying  every- 
where from  five  to  fifty  dollars  to  the  hand  daily.  The  news  began 
to  spread.  The  mill  hands  must  go  to  San  Francisco  to  spend  a 
portion  of  their  rapidly  accumulating  wealth  in  bacchanalian  orgies 
and  low  debauches.  Their  tales  were  like  the  stories  of  the  Arabian 
Nights;  every  man  could  make  from  twenty  to  a hundred  dollars  a 
day;  the  lucky,  from  fifty  to  a thousand. 

Their  legends  were  extravagant,  but  then  in  their  hands  and  pock- 
ets were  the  visible  evidences  that  their  exhuberant  fancies  had  not 
manufactured  the  story  out  of  whole  cloth.  “To  the  diggings” 
became  the  rallying  cry  of  the  entire  State,  and  soon  lawyer,  doctor, 
preacher  and  sinner,  were  en  route  for  the  mines.  Everything  was 
abandoned  to  join  in  this  mad  rush  for  sudden  riches.  The  trapper 
from  the  mountain  streams  left  traps  and  peltries,  and  exchanging 
his  rifle  for  a gold  pan,  sought  the  auriferous  placers.  The  vacquero 
left  his  herds  to  wander  at  their  own  sweet  will  and  rode  as  if  his 
life  was  at  stake  to  reach  the  new  Eldorado.  It  was  not  safe  for  a 
vessel  to  touch  along  this  enchanted  coast,  for  once  on  shore,  the 
sailors  deserted  by  the  dozens. 

Down  from  Oregon  and  the  British  possessions  came  sturdy  toil- 
ers, and  from  Mexico,  Peru  and  the  South  came  men  as  eager  as 
those  from  toward  the  boreal  realms  of  the  North.  No  one  was  safe 
from  the  infectious  fever;  the  far-off  islands  of  the  southern  ocean 
contributed  their  quota,  and  even  the  populous  realm  of  China^ 
that  had  lain  for  centuries  in  an  isolation  almost  as  complete  as  that 
of  death — opened  her  gates  to  that  golden  key,  and  out  of  tne  myri- 
ads of  ht>r  teeming  population  sent  over  swarms  o^  her  children, 


57G 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


mild  of  voice,  bland  of  face,  but  cunning  as  the  shrewdest  of  their 
Western  brethren. 


Every  agency  combined  to  spread  the  wondrous  news.  Maids 
and  matrons  marveled  at  its  dazzling  import;  even  children  caught 


THE  TALE  OF  GOLD, 


THE  GOLD  DELIRIUM. 


577 


the  infection,  and  the  school-boy,  mounted  upon  his  sturdy  pony, 
stopped  on  his  way  from  school,  to  bandy  hearsays  with  brawny 
men,  and  pointing  toward  the  setting  sun,  whose  golden  glories 
lighted  up  the  scene,  the  lad  with  open  eyes  sped  on  the  auriferous 
tale  of  treasure  and  boasted  of  what  he  would  do  when  he  became 
a man.  Ah,  child,  thank  God  ! that  long  before  you  shall  have 
entered  the  confines  of  your  teens,  the  fevered  magic  of  that  golden 
delirium  will  have  passed,  men  shall  breathe  freely  once  more, 
and  in  their  veins  the  temperate  blood  shall  “healthfully  keep 
time.” 

The  man  of  the  Empire  State,  the  Buckeye,  the  Carolinian  and  the 
Virginian  came  around  by  ocean  and  isthmus  to  the  golden  shores ; 
the  “Hoosier,  ’’the “Sucker”  and  “the  man  from  Pike, ’’with  his  inev- 
itable “Joe  Bowers,”  made  their  way  across  the  inhospitable  plains, 
battling  off  their  savage  enemies,  and  crossing  the  terrible  mountain 
ranges,  descended  like  an  invading  host  upon  the  land  toward  which 
so  many  were  wending  their  way. 

In  the  train  of  these  sturdy  toilers  came  ever  the  leech-like  para- 
sites; the  gamblers,  the  desperados  and  the  courtesans.  What  the 
one  might  make  by  his  toil,  these  others  were  ever  present  to  take 
by  fraud  or  force — by  the  soft  word,  or  the  ready  knife.  Not  since 
the  preaching  of  the  Crusades,  had  such  motley  swarms  ever  been 
seen  journeying  toward  a common  point,  inspired  by  a common 
purpose.  No  nation  or  class  was  without  its  representative. 

From  the  spring  of  1848,  when  the  news  first  began  to  spread, 
up  to  the  first  day  of  January,  1849,  the  entire  population  of  the 
State  had  been  more  than  doubled.  Ten  millions  of  dollars  had  been 
taken  from  the  placers  upon  a few  rivers,  and  yet  the  most  improved 
machinery  used,  so  far,  had  been  the  primitive  rocker.  This  fact 
was  proclaimed  to  the  world  and  had  its  effect  in  the  rush,  which 
this  year  descended  on  California.  The  sea  was  dotted  with  sails, 
the  land  with  teams,  all  headed  toward  the  common  center. 

Industry  of  all  kinds,  except  mining,  was  at  a discount.  The 
laborer  who  remained  in  San  Francisco,  and  who  the  year  before 
obtained  a dollar  and  a-half  a day  for  his  wrork,  now  demanded  and 
got  from  twenty  to  thirty.  In  July  fully  five  hundred  ships  lay  at 
anchor  in  front  of  the  city  and  more  were  arriving  daily.  Thous- 
ands of  men,  of  all  nations,  poured  in  a stream  through  the  streets 
of  San  Francisco  and  took  up  their  march  to  the  mines.  Trades 


578 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


and  professions  had  been  turned  topsy-turvy;  the  lawyer  drove 
team,  the  butcher  washed  shirts,  the  baker  turned  barber  and  the 
doctor  sold  bacon  and  supplies. 

Still  the  people  poured  in.  Fifteen  thousand  had  arrived  in  the 
first  six  months  of  1849,  of  which  number  about  two  hundred  were 
women.  It  is  asserted  as  an  indisputable  fact,  that  magnificent 
ships,  deserted  by  their  officers  and  crews,  drifted  at  the  mercy  of 
wind  and  waves  in  the  harbor  of  the  Golden  Gate. 

More  than  fifty  millions  of  dollars  were  taken  from  the  sands  of 
California  in  1849.  We  may  be  certain  that  the  report  of  the  min- 
ing of  this  vast  amount  of  treasure  did  not  lessen  the  tide  pouring 
into  her  borders.  The  gulches  of  every  part  of  the  State  were 
filled  with  the  tents  of  prospectors.  Every  report  of  new  discover- 
ies produced  what  is  known  amongst  miners  and  prospectors  as  a 
“stampede;”  a rush  as  rapid,  as  reckless  and  as  unthinking  as  the 
panic  dashes  of  a drove  of  Texas  cattle. 

Men  left  placers  paying  them  from  ten  to  twenty  dollars  a day; 
to  make  their  way  to  where  the  average  was  reported  as  fabulous, 
and  returned  only  to  find  their  claims  jumped  by  men  who  had 
heard  similar  reports  of  these  deserted  diggings.  No  one  was  satis- 
fied, and  change  after  change,  stampede  after  stampede,  was  the 
order  of  the  day. 

Some  men  made  fortune  after  fortune  and  spent  them  in  the 
drinking  dens  at  San  Francisco,  in  gambling  bouts  at  faro,  or  monte, 
or  in  the  maisons  de  joie  amongst  faded,  but  adventurous  “soiled 
doves,”  whose  charms  had  palled  upon  the  denizens  of  the  Eastern 
cities,  but  here  commanded  the  price  of  fair  Godiva’s. 

To  some  the  goddess  of  fortune  remained  steadily  obdurate,  and 
at  no  time  in  their  career  did  they  ever  “strike”  dirt  that  overpaid 
their  daily  expenses.  Some  of  the  prosperous  turned  their  backs 
upon  “God’s  country,”  as  they  had  begun  to  call  California,  and 
enjoyed  their  good  luck  in  cosy  homes  East  of  the  mountains. 

Some  of  those,  who  set  out  with  brave  hearts  and  high  hopes, 
were  destined  never  to  see  the  land  of  gold,  but  sank  in  disastrous 
shipwreck,  or  perished  by  hundreds  of  ship  fever,  in  their  crowded 
floating  prisons,  for  such  they  might  truly  be  called.  Of  the  trav- 
elers by  land  many  fell  beneath  the  balls  and  arrows  of  the  savages, 
or  perished  of  thirst  and  famine  in  the  Great  American  Desert, 


THE  GOLD  DELIRIUM. 


579 


whose  trails  were  marked  with  the  skeletons  of  men  and  animals 
and  strewn  with  the  wrecks  of  carts  and  wagons,  making  an  unmis- 
takable trace  from  the  rivers  to  the  mountains. 

Those  who  had  any  thing  to  sell  coined  money.  Everything 
brought  fabulous  prices.  An  apple  or  an  egg  cost  from  one  to  five 
dollars;  a wool  hat  was  worth  twenty  dollars,  and  a shirt  from 
thirty  to  fifty.  A Down-Easter,  not  over-scrupulous  in  weighing 
Indian  gold,  realized  fifty  thousand  dollars  from  two  rolls  of  two-ply 
carpeting.  Cutting  it  into  strips  six  feet  in  length,  he  made 
aerapes  or  ponchos  of  them,  wmch  tickled  the  red  man's  fancy  and 
beguiled  him  of  his  dust. 


CHAPTER  Y. 


CALIFORNIA  CHARACTERS  AND  WONDERS. 


PREVALENCE  OF  CRIME JUDGE  LYNCH PENALTY  FOR  THEFT AMERICAN 

DESPERADOES SIDNEY  DUCKS VOX  POPULI CONCERT  SALOONS 

BRAVOS “BOON  HELM’S  HOUNDS” DISASTROUS  FIRES SPECULATION 

THE  DELIRIUM  ABATES STRANGE  EMPLOYMENTS A CONFUSION  OF 

TRADES EDUCATED  WAITERS ACCOMPLISHED  BARBERS ADAPTA- 
BILITY  TOWNS  AND  VILLAGES RAPID  GROWTH  OF  SACRAMENTO 

ENORMOUS  RENTS  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO A REACTION A RATIONAL  BASIS 

—A  PROPHETIC  NOVEL ISLAS  CAROLINAS SIZE  OF  CALIFORNIA 

PRODUCTIONS RICHES  FUTURE BIG  TREES THE  REDWOOD 

GROVES LAKES  AND  RIVERS BAYS  AND  ISLANDS FALLS  OF  YOSEMITE 

MINERAL  SPRINGS INCIPIENT  VOLCANOES GEYSERS THE  SUNKEN 

LAKE THE  TAR  SPRINGS BOILING  MUD  SPRINGS. 


Theft  had  began  to  creep  into  the  mining  camps  and  as  there  was 
no  time  for  the  holding  of  regular  courts,  and  no  inclination,  even 
if  they  had  had  the  time,  the  shorter  methods  and  more  certain  pro- 
cesses of  Judge  Lynch  came  into  play.  No  one  was  allowed  to 
escape  on  account  of  the  defective  wording  of  a writ  or  the  quibble 
concerning  a technicality.  If  the  culprit  were  found  guilty  of  stealing 
a miner’s  dust  or  other  property,  he  was  promptly  strung  up  to  the 
nearest  tree,  thus  doing  away  with  all  chance  of  an  appeal,  or  a jail 
delivery.  Some  few  were  ordered,  if  the  proof  was  doubtful,  to 
“vamos  the  ranche”  without  delay  and  this  they  generally  did,  in 
prompt  obedience  to  the  popular  voice.  They  had  a wholesome 
belief  in  the  old  adage  of  “ vox  joopuli,  vox  Dei”  and  not  even  the 
fiercest  American  desperado , nor  the  most  villainous  ‘ 4 Sidney  Duck , ’ ’ 
ever  disputed  the  mandate  of  “the  court.” 

Bar-rooms,  concert-saloons  and  gambling  halls  flourished  in  San 
Francisco,  and  murder,  lust  and  robbery  ran  riot  in  its  streets. 
The  desperadoes  and  bravos — who  could  be  hired,  at  any  time,  for 
acts  of  perjury  or  murder — went  in  regular  bands,  such  as  “Boon 
Helm’s  hounds,”  and  had  their  established  headquarters. 

In  the  years  1849,  1850  and  1851,  San  Francisco  was  burned  four 
times. 


580 


CALIFORNIA  CMARACfERS  A Ni>  WOOERS. 


581 


Speculation  was  rife  amongst  all  classes.  Mud-flat  and  sand-hill 
alike  became  valuable,  and  the  city  increased  rapidly. 

The  miners  and  prospectors  had  by  this  time  realized,  that  to 
accumulate  a fortune  in  the  mines  required  untiring  energy  and  a 
good  share  of  luck,  and  numbers  began  a weary  return  to  their 
homes. 

Some  fell  back  to  San  Francisco  and  here  sought  for  employment, 
which  was  easily  obtained,  owing  to  the  general  activity  and  pros- 
perity. 

In  the  ranks  of  the  hotel  and  restaurant  waiters  might  be  found 
bald-headed  judges  and  diplomaed  doctors ; briefless  barristers  car- 
ried on  their  shoulders  saws  and  bucks  as  insignia  of  their  new  trades. 
Your  barber  might  be  a graduate  of  Yale  or  Oxford,  who  could  bore 
you  in  seven  different  languages.  Your  butcher  might  have  held  forth 
to  metropolitan  congregations,  and  your  shoemaker,  wrhile  awkwardly 
driving  pegs  into  your  heavy,  mining  boots,  might  quote  you  Homer 
or  Euripides  in  the  original. 

Whatever  paid  best,  that  became,  for  the  time,  a man’s  trade  or 
occupation  and  never  was  the  adaptability  of  the  American  charac- 
ter so  fully  shown  as  here  in  this  city  by  the  Golden  Gate. 

As  population  increased,  towns  and  villages  sprang  up  rapidly  all 
over  the  State.  In  January,  1849,  the  first  frame  house  was  built  at 
Sacramento.  In  the  spring  of  1850  its  population  numbered  twelve 
thousand. 

Lots  in  San  Francisco  went  up  from  sixteen  dollars  to  hundreds 
of  thousands  in  a year  or  two — tents  and  houses  rented  for  fabulous 
sums:  the  Parker  House,  near  the  plaza,  a common,  two-story 
frame,  rented  for  one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  dollars  a year; 
the  “Eldorado,”  a canvass  tent,  fifteen  by  twenty-five  feet,  brought 
forty  thousand  dollars  yearly  rental ; small,  shabby,  one-story  houses, 
with  a front  of  twenty  feet,  rented  for  forty  thousand  dollars. 

At  this  time  flour  was  forty  dollars  a barrel ; mess  pork  the  same  ; 
a pair  of  boots,  common  at  that,  brought  from  forty  to  seventy-five 
dollars;  a mechanic’s  wages  were  ten  to  twenty  dollars  a day; 
laborerss  one  dollar  an  hour.  Hotel  board  was  eight  dollars  a day. 
A seat  in  the  circus  cost  three  to  five  dollars ; a private  box  from 
fifty  to  a hundred. 

These  enormous  prices  brought  about  a reaction  by  the  overstock- 
ing of  the  market,  so  that  boxes  and  bales  of  goods  were  dumped 


582 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


into  the  mud-holes,  sooner  than  held  in  warehouses  at  the  enormous 
rates  charged  for  storage. 

In  1853  the  population  of  the  State  had  increased  to  two  hundred 
and  sixty-four  thousand  five  hundred,  and  in  this  year  the  golden 
harvest  amounted  to  sixty-five  millions  of  dollars.  This  was  the 
climax  of  gold  production  and  also  the  grand  year  for  the  establish- 
ment of  industries;  quarries,  mills,  farms,  etc.  The  people  had 


SURPRISED  BY  A CALIFORNIA  BED-FELLOW. 


begun  to  see  that  there  were  other  fortunes  in  the  State  besides  her 
mines. 

The  terrible  excitement,  during  which  men  lived  as  in  a delirious 
dream,  had  passed  away  and  everything  had  settled  down  to  a 
rational  basis.  Legitimate  business  claimed  the  attention  of  the 
Californians  and  a new  and  more  lasting  era  of  prosperity  dawned 
upon  the  “Golden  State.”  Numbeis  of  even  the  most  visionary 
prospectors,  seeing  in  the  trades  and  arts  a prospect  of  more  certain, 


CALIFORNIA  CHARACTERS  AND  WONDERS. 

if  not  so  large  returns,  abandoned  the  pole  pick  and  the  gold  pan 
and  settled  down  to  less  exciting  industries. 

The  disputes  in  regard  to  the  formation  of  the  name  California 
are  numerous;  most  authorities  adhering  to  calidus  fornus,  a hot 
oven,  as  the  true  derivation.  They  account  for  this  by  saying  that 
it  refers  to  the  sweat  ovens  or  sweat  baths  of  the  natives.  This  is 
ingenious,  but  unfortunately  not  borne  out  by  the  truth.  California 
was  the  name  given  to  a fabulous  island,  told  of  by  the  author  of  a 
novel,  entitled  “The  Sergas  of  Esplandian,  the  son  of  Amadis,  of 
Gaul,”  and  published  in  Spain  in  1510.  Almost  prophetically  this 
author  speaks  of  the  great  plenty  of  gold  upon  this  island.  Owing 
to  Lower  California  having  upon  one  side  the  Gulf  of  California,  or 
“Sea  of  Cortez,”  as  it  was  formerly  called,  and  on  the  other  the 
Pacific  Ocean,  it  was  considered  an  island  up  to  the  year  1686,  and 
was  known  upon  the  charts  as  Islas  Carolinas. 

How  long  the  State  would  have  required  to  gain  a population  of 
its  present  number,  (560,000  in  1-870),  under  Spanish  or  Mexican 
rule,  can  never  be  known,  but  when  it  is  estimated  that  this  State — 
if  only  as  densely  populated  as  Great  Britain — could  contain  fifty- 
five  millions  of  inhabitants,  we  can  readily  see  how  grand  a prize 
they  let  slip  from  their  nerveless  grasp.  Her  sea  coast  fronts  the 
Pacific  for  more  than  eight  hundred  miles  and  lies  midway  between 
Asia  and  Europe.  Her  wheat  fields  produce  over  twenty  millions  of 
bushels,  one  year  with  another,  and  her  mineral  yield  is  enormous. 
Her  grapes  and  olives  vie  with  her  other  fruits  as  a source  of  riches, 
and  her  cattle,  sheep  and  horses  swell  the  enormous  total  of  these 
millions. 

Nature  seems  here  to  have  worked  on  a gigantic  scale  and  we  find 
the  grandest  mountains,  the  loftiest  falls  and  the  highest  trees  on 
the  American  continent.  Mount  Whitney  towers  fifteen  thousand 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  the  mighty  trees  of  Calaveras, 
Tulare,  Tuolumne  and  Mariposa  dwarf  into  insignificance  their  puny 
brothers  of  Mount  Lebanon,  Maine  and  the  Baltic,  some  of  them 
towering  into  the  air  for  four  hundred  and  thirty-five  feet  and 
measuring  one  hundred  and  ten  feet  in  circumference  at  their  bases. 

Five  men  worked  steadily  for  twenty-two  days  to  cut  down  by 
boring,  the  only  practical  way  it  could  be  done,  one  of  these  giants. 
The  stump,  smoothed  off  and  planed,  measured  in  diameter  twenty- 
seven  feet  and  will  accommodate  a cotillion  party  of  four  sets,  or 


584 


CONQUEftifrO  WILDtTtKkSSh 


thirty-two  people.  One  of  them,  which  had  fallen,  showed  a 
diameter  of  forty  feet.  These  trees  are  a species  of  cedar  and 
their  ages  vary  from  one  to  three  thousand  years. 

California  is  too  rich  in  lakes  and  rivers  to  enumerate.  Her  bays 
and  harbors  are  Jarge  and  numerous,  and  many  islands  dot  her  sea 
coast.  In  natural  wonders,  besides  her  gigantic  trees,  California  is 
prolific.  The  Falls  of  Yosemite  dash  down  from  their  awful  parapet 
for  twenty-six  hundred  feet  before  they  land  in  the  valley  below. 

Her  volcanic  forces  exhibit  themselves  in  streams  of  mud,  steam 
and  hot  and  cold  water.  From  the  center  of  Lake  Mono  puffs  of 
smoke  and  steam  are  expelled  at  irregular  intervals ; near  the  Mat- 
tole  River  are  many  springs  of  gas,  some  of  which  have  strong  jets 
that,  when  ignited,  blaze  up  fiercely  for  great  distances.  In  this 
region  flowing  springs  of  petroleum  are  not  infrequent. 

Near  the  central  portion  of  San  Diego  county,  is  the  bed  of  a lake 
which  lies  below  the  level  of  the  surface  of  the  ocean..  It  is  near  this 
lake  that  the  boiling  mud  springs  are  located,  which  hiss,  sputter  and 
emit  heavy  puffs  of  steam  with  a strong  scent  of  sulphur.  From 
this  incipient  volcano  jets  of  mud  are  shot  into  the  air  to  a consid- 
erable distance,  these  jets  being  accompanied  with  loud  reports.  In 
Sonoma  county  are  geysers,  or  spouting  springs.  Deposits  of  asjDhal- 
tum  are  numerous,  and  there  are  many  soda  and  sulphur  springs. 
In  Kearn  county  is  the  celebrated  tar  spring,  an  acre  in  extent.  In 
the  soft  matter  exuded  from  it,  bird  and  beasts  are  said  to  become 
entrapped  and  numbers  perish  thus. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


A TALE  OP  TERRORS. 


“THE  EARTHQUAKE’S  SHOCK” A PANIC  FEAR A NOTED  QUAKE CHAN- 
NELS CHANGE ISLANDS  ENGULFED LAKES  FORMED OTHERS  EMP- 
TIED  NEW  MADRID DR.  HILDRETH’S  ACCOUNT FRIGHT  OF  DUMB 

ANIMALS HORRIBLE  NOISES FORESTS  DISAPPEAR GIGANTIC  FOAM 

WREATHS VOLCANIC  JETS FUNEREAL  VAPORS BOATS  OVERWHELMED 

ACCOUNT  OF  BRADBURY,  THE  ENGLISH  SCIENTIST SHOCK  AFTER 

SHOCK FORMS  A LAKE  SIXTY  MILES  LONG THE  PIONEER  STEAMBOAT 

TRIP DESTRUCTION  IN  JAVA AN  ISLAND  OF  ICE TERRIBLE  LOSS  OF 

LIFE  IN  ITALY STROMBOLI POMPEI  AND  HERCULANEUM JORULLA 

COTOPAXI IMMENSE  POWER QUITO  DESTROYED A CHAIN  OF 

VOLCANOES FLORIDIAN  MEADOWS VESUVIUS THE  LOST  ATLANTIS 

FORTY  VILLAGES  SWALLOWED  UP LISBON’S  DOOM SIXTY  THOU- 
SAND PEOPLE  PERISH A NAVY  ENTOMBED MASSACHUSETTS  AND  MAR- 
TINIQUE  POUT  ROYAL  SINKS ANTIOCH’S  THIRD  SHOCK TWO  HUN- 
DRED AND  FIFTY  THOUSAND  LIVES  LOST CALIFORNIA’S  LIST SAN 

FRANCISCO  SHAKEN THE  INYO  SHOCK RIVERS  RUN  BACKWARD 

TERRIBLE  NOISES APPALLING  SIGHTS MOUNT  HOOD'S  FIRES  LIGHTED. 


All  of  these  wonderful  regions  and,  in  fact,  the  whole  State,  are 
subject  to  earthquakes  and  these  are  the  dread  phantoms  that,  in 
the  midst  of  the  Californian’s  most  enraptured  discoursing  on  his 
State’s  grandeur  and  glory  of  scenery  and  of  wealth,  cause  him 
suddenly  to  turn  pale  and  lower  his  tone  of  braggart  utterances  to 
that  of  awe  and  dread.  It  is  “the  dead  man  at  the  feast,”  over  the 
whole  State,  and  the  first  rumble  of  the  subterranean  noises  or  the 
first  shudder  of  “the  earth’s  firm  crust”  causes  the  liveliest  dread  of 
these  mysterious  phenomena.  And  no  wonder ! Say  what  we  may 
of  the  boasted  power  of  science  to  parallax  the  most  distant  stars, 
measure  the  bulk  of  the  moon,  calculate  the  distance  to  the  “orb  of 
day,”  yet  all  of  her  speculations  concerning  volcanic  fires  and  earth- 
quake shocks  are  but  vague  guesses  which,  even  if  correct,  present 
no  theory  of  escape  from  their  terrific  vengeance. 

His  fright  once  over,  the  Californian  will  hasten  to  assure  you  that 
these  shocks  are  not  at  all  dangerous,  on  the  contrary,  they  are 
very  beneficial  in  purifying  the  air,  equalizing  the  electricity  of  the 
atmosphere  and  averting  epidemics.  Let  us  see  if  history  bears 
out  his  peculiar  theories  in  regard  to  the  innocence  and  salubrity  of 
earthquakes. 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


886 

Probably  the  most  noted  that  ever  occurred  in  the  United  States, 
was  that  which  happened  in  1811,  and  reached  from  a little  below 
Louisville,  on  the  Ohio,  to  a considerable  distance  below  New 
Madrid,  on  the  Mississippi.  On  the  ICth  day  of  December,  in  this 
year,  the  first  shock  occurred.  The  channels  of  the  rivers  were 
changed,  sand  bars  were  sunk  in  one  place,  new  ones  appeared  in 
another.  The  banks  caved  in,  large  openings  appeared  in  the  earth, 
from  some  of  which  issued  smoke,  burnt,  reddish  sand,  mud  and 
water.  Chimneys  were  shaken  down  and  many  houses  also. 

Reel  Foot  Lake  in  Tennessee  was  formed  by  the  earthquake, 
while  others  in  Missouri  were  emptied.  A large  island  in  the 
Mississippi  sank  with  its  grand  forests  into  the  bed  of  the 
stream,  never  to  reappear.  The  current  of  the  river  changed  and 
for  over  an  hour  the  waters  ran  up  stream.  Lightning  darted  from 
the  bosom  of  the  earth  toward  the  clouds.  This  continued  for  over 
six  weeks. 

Dr.  Hildreth  says  of  this  convulsion,  or  rather  series  of  convul- 
sions: “From  an  eye-witness,  who  was  then  about  forty  miles 
below  the  town,  (New  Madrid),  in  a flat-boat,  on  his  way  to  New 
Orleans  with  a load  of  produce,  and  who  narrated  the  scene  to  me, 
the  agitation,  which  convulsed  the  earth  and  the  waters  of  the 
mighty  Mississippi,  filled  every  living  creature  with  horror.  * * * 
In  the  middle  of  the  night,  there  was  a terrible  shock  and  jarring  of 
the  boats,  so  that  the  crews  were  all  awakened,  and  hurried  on  deck 
with  their  weapons  of  defense  in  their  hands,  thinking  the  Indians 
were  rushing  on  board.  The  ducks,  geese,  swans  and  various  other 
aquatic  birds,  whose  numberless  flocks  were  quietly  resting  in  the 
eddies  of  the  river,  were  thrown  into  the  greatest  tumult,  and  with 
loud  screams  expressed  their  alarm  in  accents  of  terror. 

“The  noise  and  commotion  soon  became  hushed,  and  nothing  could 
be  discovered  to  excite  apprehension,  so  that  the  boatmen  concluded 
that  the  shock  was  occasioned  by  the  falling  in  of  a large  mass  of 
the  bank  of  the  river,  near  them.  .As  soon  as  it  was  light  enough 
to  distinguish  objects,  the  crews  were  all  up,  making  ready  to 
depart.  Directly,  a loud  roaring  and  hissing  was  heard,  like  the 
escape  of  steam  from  a boiler.  * * * The  sand  bars  and  points 

of  the  islands  gave  way,  swallowed  up  in  the  tumultuous  bosom  of 
the  river,  carrying  down  with  them  the  cottonwood  trees  cracking 


a tale  of  terrors. 


587 


and  crashing,  tossing  their  arms  to  and  fro,  as  if  sensible  of  their 
danger,  while  they  disappeared  beneath  the  flood. 

“The  water  of  the  river,  which  the  day  before  was  tolerably  clear, 
being  rather  low,  changed  to  a reddish  hue  and  became  thick  with 
mud  thrown  up  from  its  bottom;  while  the  surface,  lashed  violently 
by  the  agitation  of  the  earth  beneath,  was  covered  with  foam, 
which,  gathering  into  masses  the  size  of  a barrel,  floated  along  on 
the  trembling  waters.  The  earth  on  the  shores  opened  in  wide 
fissures,  and  closing  again,  threw  the  water,  sand  and  mud  in  huge 
jets,  higher  than  the  tops  of  the  trees. 

“The  atmosphere  was  filled  with  a thick  vapor  or  gas,  to  which  the 
sunlight  imparted  a purple  tinge  altogether  different  in  appearance 
from  the  autumnal  haze  of  Indian  summer,  or  that  of  smoke. 
From  the  temporary  check  to  the  current,  by  the  heaving  up  of  the 
bottom  and  the  sinking  of  the  banks  and  sand  bars  into  the  bed  of 
the  stream,  the  river  rose,  in  a few  minutes,  five  or  six  feet,  and 
impatient  of  the  restraint,  again  rushed  forward  with  redoubled 
impetuosity,  hurrying  along  the  boats  now  set  loose  by  the  horror- 
struck  boatmen,  as  in  less  danger  on  the  water  than  at  the  shore, 
where  the  banks  threatened  every  moment  to  destroy  them  by  the 
falling  earth,  or  carry  them  down  in  the  vortices  of  the  sinking 
masses. 

“Many  boats  were  overwhelmed  in  this  manner,  and  their  crews 
perished  with  them.  * * * Numerous  boats  were  wrecked  on 

the  snags  and  old  trees  thrown  up  from  the  bottom  of  the  Mississippi, 
where  they  had  quietly  rested  for  ages,  while  others  were  sunk  or 
stranded  on  the  sand  bars  and  islands.  * * * New  Madrid, 

which  stood  on  a bluff  bank  fifteen  or  twenty  feet  above  the  summer 
floods,  sank  so  low  that  the  next  rise  covered  it  to  the  depth  of 
five  feet.” 

Mr.  Bradbury,  an  English  scientific  explorer,  speaking  of  this 
earthquake,  says:  “It  commenced  by  distant  rumbling  sounds, 
succeeded  by  discharges,  as  if  a thousand  pieces  of  artillery  were 
suddenly  exploded,  the  earth  rocked  to  and  fro,  vast  chasms  opened, 
from  whence  issued  columns  of  water,  sand  and  coal,  accompanied 
by  hissing  sounds,  caused,  perhaps,  by  the  escape  of  pent  up  steam, 
while  ever  and  anon,  flashes  of  electricity  gleamed  through  the 
troubled  clouds  of  night,  rendering  the  darkness  doubly  terrible. 


588 


CONQUERING  TttE  WILDERNESS. 


“The  current  of  the  Mississippi,  pending  this  elemental  strife,  Was 
driven  back  upon  its  source  with  the  greatest  velocity  for  several 
hours,  in  consequence  of  an  elevation  of  its  bed.  * * * The 

day  that  followed  this  night  of  terror,  brought  no  solace  in  its  dawn. 
Shock  followed  shock  ; a dense,  black  cloud  of  vapor  overshadowed 
the  land,  through  which  no  struggling  sunbeam  found  its  way  to 
cheer  the  desponding  heart  of  man,  who,  in  silent  communion  with 
himself,  was  compelled  to  acknowledge  his  weakness  and  depend- 
ence on  the  everlasting  God.  * * * 

“Hills  disappeared,  and  lakes  were  formed  in  their  stead.  * * 

One  of  the  lakes  formed  on  this  occasion,  is  sixty  or  seventy  miles  in 
length,  and  from  three  to  twenty  in  breadth.  It  is  in  some  places 
very  shallow  ; in  others  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  feet  in  depth, 
which  is  much  deeper  than  the  Mississippi  River  in  that  quarter. 
In  sailing  over  its  surface  in  the  light  canoe,  the  voyager  is  struck 
with  astonishment  at  beholding  the  giant  trees  of  the  forest  standing 
partially  exposed,  amid  a waste  of  waters,  branchless  and  leafless. 
But  the  wonder  is  still  further  increased,  on  casting  the  eye  on  the 
dark  blue  profound,  to  observe  cane-breaks  covering  its  bottom, 
over  which  a mammoth  species  of  testudo  is  seen  dragging  his  slow 
length  along,  while  countless  myriads  of  fish  are  sporting  through 
the  aquatic  thickets. ” 

While  these  convulsions  were  causing  a universal  horror,  the  first 
steam  boat  that  ever  navigated  the  western  waters,  (the  “New 
Orleans, ” ) was  making  her  way  out  of  the  Ohio  into  the  Missis- 
sippi and  down  the  latter  stream,  the  intention  being  to  run  her 
between  Natchez  and  New  Orleans.  This  pioneer  of  the  steam  craft, 
was  destined  to  have  as  stormy  a time  as  her  human  contemporaries, 
but  after  a thousand  narrow  escapes  from  snag  and  sawyer,  sand 
bar  and  earthquake,  she  arrived  at  Natchez  about  January  7th,  1812. 

Even  as  we  write,  Java  is  trembling  in  the  awful  throes  of 
earthquake  shocks,  and  her  coast  lashed  with  destructive  tidal 
waves,  that  are  wrecking  whole  towns  and  villages.  Vast  strips  of 
territory,  including  high  mountains,  have  disappeared — engulfed 
in  the  awful  depths  of  yawning  chasms.  Thousands  of  lives  have 
been  lost  in  these  terrible  convulsions,  which  still  continue  without 
any  signs  of  abatement.  At  one  point,  an  immense  island  of  float- 
ing ice  was  vomited  forth  from  one  of  the  hissing  and  smoking 


A TALE  OF  TERRORS. 


589 


craters.  Whether,  congealed  in  the  dark  bosom  of  some  subter- 
ranean lake,  or  formed  by  some  mysterious  chemical  action,  is  a 
matter  for  speculation.  Over  seventy-five  thousand  persons  have 
perished  in  these  awful  convulsions. 

But  a week  or  two  since,  Ischia  and  Casamiccioli,  on  the  island 
of  Ischia,  in  Italy,  were  visited  by  earthquakes.  At  the  latter 
some  three  hundred  persons  were  destroyed,  while  at  Ischia  more 
than  eight  thousand  perished  in  the  ruins.  The  heat  of  the  weather 
and  the  decomposition  of  the  corpses,  drove  off  the  workers  who 
might  otherwise  have  rescued  hundreds,  who,  still  alive,  were  con- 
fined in  the  ruins  unable  to  extricate  themselves.  These  had  to  be 
left  to  their  cruel  fate. 

Stromboli,  the  giant  safety-vale  of  the  Lipari  Isles,  has  not  slum- 
bered for  more  than  two  thousand  years,  and  the  reader  knows,  too 
well  to  be  reminded,  of  the  fate  of  Pompeii  and  Herculaneum,  bur- 
ied in  a day  beneath  the  ashen  showers  and  volcanic  lava  floods  and 
only  brought  to  light  after  the  lapse  of  nearly  eighteen  centuries.  So 
completely  had  they  been  buried  that  not  a vestige  of  them  was  left 
to  suggest  the  possibility  of  there  ever  having  been  any  such  places. 

You  are  right  to  tremble,  oh  dweller  by  the  peaceful  seas  ! — but 
we  are  not  done  yet.  The  mighty  mass  of  Jorullo  was  uplifted  from 
the  level  plain  by  those  unseen  forces,  and  Humboldt  states  that 
Cotapaxi,  in  its  Titanic  wrath,  vomited  forth  solid  masses  of  molten 
matter  fully  one  hundred  tons  in  weight,  projecting  them  through 
the  shuddering  air,  a distance  of  ten  miles.  Washington  City,  Phila- 
delphia, Boston  and  St.  Louis  have  experienced  mild  shocks. 

In  1822,  Chili  was  visited  by  an  earthquake,  which  elevated  to  an 
average  height  of  five  feet  a territory  of  one  hundred  thousand 
square  miles.  Figure  on  the  force  necessary  to  perform  that  feat ! 

In  1859  the  City  of  Quito  was  destroyed  by  an  earthquake,  and 
thousands  perished. 

The  beds  of  the  Southern  and  South  Atlantic  Oceans  are  subject 
to  continual  change  on  account  of  these  shocks,  and  the  entire  chain 
of  the  Sandwich  Islands  is  of  volcanic  origin. 

In  Florida  immense  meadows  and  forests  have  sunk  into  the  bow- 
els of  the  earth,  and  there  is  little  doubt  but  that  the  West  Indies 
were  once  a part  of  the  American  continent. 

In  1857  Naples  shook,  while  Vesuvius  smoked  and  thundered,  and 
the  next  year  the  City  of  Mexico  was  in  great  danger,  her  aqueduct 


590 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


being  destroyed  and  many  houses  levelled.  Chihuahua,  Sonora  and 
other  parts  of  Mexico  were  visited  at  this  time  by  shocks,  destroy- 
ing houses. 

Long  before  the  historic  era  the  lost  Atlantis,  an  island  as  large  as 
Australia,  was  swallowed  into  the  bosom  of  the  ocean  by  a terrible 
earthquake  and  no  vestige  left  of  animate  or  inanimate  objects. 

In  1772  Papandyang,  a volcano  on  the  Island  of  Java,  was  in  full 
action,  when  suddenly  it  sank,  carrying  with  it  an  area  six  miles  in 
breadth  and  fifteen  in  length.  Forty  villages,  with  nearly  three  thou- 
sand inhabitants,  were  engulfed  in  this  horrible  vortex. 

Perhaps  the 'most  terrible  earthquake  of  all  time,  with  but  one 
exception,  was  that  at  Lisbon,  in  1755,  which  in  a few  minutes  lev- 
elled the  greatest  part  of  its  buildings  and  carried  into  its  voracious 
maw  sixty  thousand  of  the  inhabitants.  First  receding  from  the 
shore,  the  sea  returned  in  an  immense  wall  of  water,  over  fifty  feet 
in  height.  One  thousand  people  had  gathered  on  the  solid  marble 
wharf,  confident  of  its  strength,  but  the  oncoming  wave  smote  into 
eternity  people,  wharf  and  stranded  shipping:  not  a single  body  nor 
the  slightest  plank  ever  floated  up  to  the  surface. 

At  the  same  time  even  the  mountains  above  the  city  crumbled  and 
the  shock  was  felt  alike  on  the  coast  of  Massachusetts  and  in  the  Ger- 
man Alps.  The  medicinal  springs  at  Toplitz  disappeared  for  some- 
time; chimneys  fell  in  Boston,  the  Scottish  lakes  palpitated  fright- 
fully, and  even  grand  Ontario,  one  of  our  inland  seas,  felt  the 
mighty  force. 

Along  the  coast  of  Massachusetts  the  sea  foamed  and  roared  like 
thousands  of  angry  lions,  while  at  Martinique  the  tide  rose  twenty 
feet  and  the  water  was  black  as  night. 

In  1692  Port  Royal,  Jamaica,  sank  into  the  sea,  the  engulfing 
waters  covering  a space  of  a thousand  acres,  and  ships  were  forced 
by  the  gigantic  waves  over  this  fearful  spot. 

Antioch,  in  Syria,  has  suffered  three  severe  shocks,  the  first  and 
second  sinking  into  insignificance,  when  compared  with  the  last.  This 
occurred  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  526,  at  the  time  when  the  festival 
of  the  Ascension  was  being  celebrated.  From  the  towns,  villages 
and  surrounding  country  the  people  flocked  to  witness  the  religious 
ceremonies,  and  while  these  were  in  full  progress,  the  shock  occur- 
red, and  so  swift  was  the  destruction  that  there  was  no  time  for 


A TALE  OF  TERRORS. 


591 


escape.  Of  the  multitude  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  people 
were  swTallowed  up  in  a single  instant  of  time. 

In  California  the  record  of  earthquakes  begins  about  the  year 
1800,  though  no  doubt  they  were  of  frequent  occurrence  prior  to 
that  time.  During  1808  these  shocks  were  frequent.  In  1812  the 
entire  southern  part  of  the  State  was  badly  shaken  and  thirty  per- 
sons killed.  In  1818  a church  at  Santa  Clara  was  destroyed.  In 
1851  a severe  shock  was  felt  at  San  Francisco,  during  which  the 
waters  of  the  bay  were  greatly  agitated.  In  1858  San  Jose  was 
visited  and  several  of  the  brick  houses  badly  injured.  In  1861 
some  parts  of  the  State  felt  a severe  shock.  In  1865  San  Francisco 
was  again  visited,  many  buildings  injured  and  immense  damage  done 
to  the  window  glasses.  In  1868  San  Francisco  and  Alameda  County 
experienced  a frightful  shock. 

This  began  gently,  but  soon  so  rocked  the  buildings  that  they 
almost  turned  over,  and  caused  the  inhabitants  to  fly  to  vacant  lots 
for  safety.  Some  buildings  were  badly  cracked;  some  partly  sank 
and  a few  were  thrown  down.  Three  persons  were  killed  and  for  some 
time  it  was  difficult  to  persuade  families  to  go  back  to  their  homes. 
The  tremor  and  rocking  of  the  earth  produced  a horrible  feeling, 
wThich  those  who  experienced  it  say  seemed  like  a mixture  of  sea 
sickness  and  acute  melancholia,  and  in  consequence  of  this,  as  much 
as  from  their  fears  of  a violent  death,  many  people  are  said  to  have 
left  the  State,  never  to  return. 

In  1872  occurred  the  most  destructive  shock  that  California  has 
ever  experienced.  This  occurred  in  Inyo  County  on  March  26th. 
Lone  Pine  was  instantly  destroyed,  having  been  subjected  to  three 
hundred  successive  shocks  in  a few  hours.  Twenty-seven  of  its 
five  hundred  inhabitants  were  killed  and  many  wounded.  At  Swansea, 
Independence  and  Cerro  Gordo  a few  persons  were  killed,  some 
wounded  and  many  buildings  destroyed.  These  shocks  continued 
for  three  days.  In  one  part  of  the  county  fifty  acres  of  land  sank 
six  feet  below  the  general  surface  level ; Kern  and  Owens  Fivers  ran 
backwards  for  miles  and  Owens  Lake  rose  five  feet. 

Some  of  the  dead  and  wounded  were  swallowed  in  chasms  which 
opened  in  the  solid  ground.  The  rumbling  of  the  earth  and  its 
appalling  tremors  were  made  more  horrible  by  the  hissing  of  its  pent 
up  heat  and  steam  and  the  roar  and  stench  of  its  escaping  vapors. 
Fye  witnesses  describe  the  grand  climax  as  one  of  sublime  horror. 


592 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Darting  from  the  mountain  crags  were  immense  sheets  of  electric 
flames  which  precipitated  thousands  of  tons  of  rock  into  the  valleys 
below,  while  advancing  toward  them  from  the  South,  could  be  heard 
terrific  peals  of  subterranean  explosion,  as  if  a hundred  tons  of  giant 
powder  were  being  set  off  at  once.  This  sound  they  describe  as 
being  appalling,  especially  when  they  heard  it  advancing  slowly  upon 
them  and  did  not  know  but  that  the  entire  surface  of  the  earth  was 
being  blown  to  atoms. 

At  daylight — for  all  this  horror  was  increased  by  the  darkness  of 
night — they  saw  that  the  air  was  filled  with  smoke  and  impalpable 
dust.  Some  springs  were  dried  up,  others  opened,  and  the  bosom  of 
the  valley  was  rent  and  fissured  with  thousands  of  chasms. 

Mount  Hood,  in  Oregon,  lighted  up  its  fires  in  sympathy  with 
these  disturbances;  Mauna  Loa,  in  the  Sandwich  group,  began  to 
smoke  and  even  far-off  Vesuvius,  in  Italy,  belched  forth  her  floods 
of  ashes  and  lava,  smoke  and  fire  as  though  she,  too,  had  been  one 
of  the  smoke-stacks  of  these  far-off  subterranean  fires. 

This  is  a partial  list  of  what  earthquake  shocks  have  done  in  the 
past,  and  they  show  us  how  justly  they  are  to  be  feared  at  present, 
though  let  us  hope  that  to  our  western  Jster  no  such  ills  may  ever 
befall  her  in  the  years  to  come. 

How  mildly  we  have  shown  the  terrors  of  the  earthquake,  and 
how  strong  a picture  of  its  horrors  we  might  have  painted,  the  reader 
can  easily  see  for  himself  by  consulting  any  detailed  account  of  the 
earthquake  at  Lisbon  in  1755,  or  that  at  Antioch  in  the  sixth  cen- 
tury of  the  Christian  era. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


THE  CHINESE  QUESTION. 


A SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL  PROBLEM THE  POT-HOUSE  POLITICIAN 

SATAN  IN  PARADISE STRANGE  FAULT-FINDING A MODEST  IMMI- 
GRANT  CHINESE  VIRTUES HIS  ADAPTABILITY THE  ASIATIC  YAN- 
KEE  a LOW  DEATH  RATE CHEAP  LABOR A PATIENT  TOILER 

THE  AUTOCRATIC  SERVANT  GIRL  THE  UNPARDONABLE  SIN A 

HOUSEHOLD  TYRANT PAGANS BUDDHA  AND  CON-FUT-SEE A 

PURE  MORALITY A NOBLE  HEBREW HIS  TEACHINGS A YOUNG 

PRINCE HIS  HOLY  LIFE A CREED  OF  CASTES OVERTHROWN  BY 

BUDDHA THE  CHILDREN  OF  GOD  TO  LIVE  WELL  THE  FIRST 

GOLDEN  RULE A CHINESE  PHILOSOPHER AMUSEMENTS NEW  YEAR 

THEATERS PECULIAR  CUSTOMS NO  POLITICS CHINESE  WID- 
OWS  POLYGAMY -MURDER  OF  FEMALE  CHILDREN DIET AN  OLD 

CIVILIZATION  UNCHANGEABLE LONG  ENJOYED  LUXURIES COM- 
PARISON WITH  OTHER  RACES LEPROSY FEARS  OF  ITS  SPREAD 

PROSTITUTION NECESSARY  EVILS THE  STRANGE  WOMAN EXPERI- 
ENCE OF  SOCRATES SOLOMON’S  WISDOM ASPASIA THE  OMNI- 

PRESENT COURTESAN. 


No  sketch  of  California  would  be  complete  without  some  notice 
of  the  Chinaman,  who,  in  less  than  a quarter  of  a century,  has 
become  the  chief  social  and  political  problem  of  the  Pacific  Slope. 
Without  the  inoffensive  heathen  to  inveigh  against,  the  occupation 
of  the  California  pot-house  politician  would  be  gone.  According  to 
him  the  race  has  crept  into  the  State  like  Satan  into  Paradise,  to 
embitter  all  its  joys  and  to  ruin  its  prosperity.  Swaying  to  and  fro 
with  true  drunken  gravity,  his  brain  fired  with  deep  potations  of 
napthaline  gin,  or  vile,  unwholesome  rum,  he  will  point  out  the  hor- 
rors of  opium-eating  and  smoking  and  show  its  downward  tenden- 
cies. He  will  howl  out,  as  a damning  evidence  of  Chinese  iniquity, 
that  “he  takes  no  interest  in  the  country — he  never  votes.” 

If  anything  could  cause  a thinking  American  to  rise  up  and  call 
a foreigner  blessed,  it  would  be  this  very  modesty  of  the  Chinaman 
in  feeling  his  ignorance  of  our  institutions  too  deeply  to  wish  to 
meddle  with  them.  How  great  a pity  it  is  that  some  of  our  Cau- 
casian immigrants  are  not  gifted  with  a little  of  this  decent  modesty. 
That  he  doesn’t  bring  his  women  with  him;  that  he  sends  his  bones 

593 


594 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


back  to  the  “flowery  kingdom”  for  burial;  that  he  smokes  opium, 
instead  of  drinking  rum;  that  he  is  not  brave,  and  that  he  is  eco- 
nomical, are  all  matters  concerning  himself  solely. 

His  worst  enemies  allow  to  him  sobriety,  patience  and  frugality. 
They  admit  that  he  neither  meddles  with  the  social,  moral,  or  politi- 
cal affairs  of  his  neighbors.  They  say  that  he  is  adaptable  and  if 
he  cannot  find  employment  at  his  regular  trade,  Avhatever  that  may 
be,  he  turns  his  hand  to  something  else — in  fact,  that  he  is  the 
American  of  Asia. 

They  say  that,  while  inferior  in  physique  to  the  white  man,  he  is 
superior  in  diligence  and  patient  energy.  They  say  that  he  doesn’t 
get  drunk,  attends  no  club,  has  no  elections  and  parades,  belongs  to 
no  societies,  organizes  no  strikes,  and  raises  no  riots.  How  they 
could  make  out  a better  character,  for  this  much  abused  heathen  we 
can  hardly  see. 

They  speak  of  his  filthy  habits,  and  yet  cleanliness  is  a part  of  his 
religion  and  rigidly  practiced.  They  say  that  he  sleeps  in  crowded 
quarters  and  poisons  himself  with  the  foul  exhalations  from  dozens 
of  his  fellows,  and  yet  his  death  rate  is  lower  than  any  of  our  other 
immigrants.  They  speak  of  his  cheap  labor,  and  yet  his  washing 
and  his  cooking  are  better  paid  than  those  of  any  other  of  our 
domestics. 

It  is  true  that  his  patience  and  industry  enable  him  to  work  out 
fortunes  from  the  “tailings,”  from  which  the  American  has  already 
taken  their  richest  deposits  of  the  precious  metals,  and  in  household 
work  the  Chinese  easily  displace  our  Bridgets  and  our  Lenas,  from  the 
fact  that  they  are  not  inquisitive,  demand  no  “Sundays  and  afternoons 
out,”  attend  to  their  own  business,  do  not  pry  into  that  of  their 
employers,  and  ask  but  a single  question,  when  seeking  employ- 
ment— “is  the  pay  certain  !” 

To  think  of  asking  the  number  of  children  in  a family,  as  if  the 
production  of  offspring  were  the  unpardonable  sin ; to  dictate  as  to 
the  management  of  the  household,  or  any  part  of  it,  are  things 
which  never  enter  their  minds,  and  they  were  welcomed  in  Califor- 
nia (when  the  servant  girl  had  become  the  domestic  autocrat),  as  a 
God-send. 

But  they  are  pagans,  say  these  political  moralists  fresh  from  the 
slums  of  intemperance  and  the  dens  of  debauchery,  who  knowT  as 
much,  and  only  as  much,  about  the  noble  teachings  of  Buddha  and 


THE  CHINESE  QUESTION. 


595 


Kong-Fut-Se,  (Confucius),  as  they  do  of  the  grand  principles  of 
American  freedom.  Can  these  Chinaphobists  tell  us  where  we  can 
find  precepts  of  morality  and  sobriety  that  surpass  those  of  the 
teachers  we  have  mentioned?  They  may  object  that  immortality  is 
only  hinted  at  in  their  writings.  Did  Moses,  the  noblest  Hebrew 
character,  that  that  race  ever  produced,  even  hint  at  it?  Are  we 
to  blame  them  that  they  are  not  Christians,  when  five  hundred  years 
before  the  birth  of  Christ  the  religion  of  Confucius  was  firmly 
established  amongst  them? 

About  the  year  sixty,  of  our  Lord,  the  philosophy  and  morality 
of  the  Chinese  sage  were  also  supplemented  with  the  doctrines  of 
Buddha.  Now,  let  us  see  if  this  commingled  religion  is  altogether 
inadequate  to  the  spiritual  needs  of  humanity.  Five  hundred  and 
fifty-seven  years  before  the  Christian  era,  a son  was  born  to  the 
family  of  a Hindoo  king,  named  Sakya-Muni,  or  Gautama  and  at 
the  age  of  sixteen  was  consecrated,  by  annointing  with  water,  as  heir 
to  the  throne.  As  a child  he  was  remarkable  for  the  vigor  and  bal- 
ance of  his  mind  and  the  tenderness  of  his  heart. 

So  delicate  were  his  perceptions,  and  so  acute  his  sensibilities, 
that  every  effort  was  made  to  keep  from  him  all  sights  and  sounds 
of  sorrow,  disease  and  death,  but  at  last  he  accidentally  saw  a man 
stooped  with  the  heavy  burden  of  decrepid  age ; a young  man  afflicted 
with  a hideous  disease,  and  the  corpse  of  a maiden. 

These  caused  him  to  reflect  on  the  evils  that  wait  upon  all  con- 
ditions and  estates  of  man,  and  turning  his  back  upon  his  throne, 
his  parents,  his  wife  and  his  children,  he  determined  to  devote  his 
life  to  the  good  of  suffering  humanity.  His  family  name  was  hid- 
den, first  by  that  of  Siddartha,  “he  that  fulfils, ” and  later  by  that 
of  Buddha,  “the  enlightened.” 

Hindostan  was  then  under  the  dominion  of  the  Brahminical  religion ; 
a creed  of  rigid  castes  and  strict  intolerance,  but  the  teachings  of 

O 7 O 

Buddha  not  only  overthrew  it  in  his  native  land,  but  to-day  his  is 
the  religion  of  Japan,  Ceylon,  Thibet,  Corea,  China,  Cochin-China, 
Siam  and  Burmah,  as  well.  He  taught  that  purity  of  morals,  of 
actions  and  of  thought  were  alone  worthy  of  humanity  and  should 
be  the  traits  that  distinguished  them  from  the  brute  creation.  “Do 
we  love  our  parents?”  said  he — “so  also  do  the  brutes.  Do  we  love 
our  wives  and  offspring? — the  beasts  do  so  likewise.  We  must  love, 
as  well,  our  enemies  if  we  would  be  accounted  better  than  they.  We 


596 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


must  abolish  all  castes,  since  we  are  the  children  of  one  God,  and 
are  all  subject  to  like  joys  and  ills;  to  like  curses  and  blessings. 
We  must  abstain  from  evil  for  the  sake  of  virtue  alone;  if  we  live 
hereafter,  it  is  well;  if  we  perish  at  death,  we  have  at  least  lived 
well.” 

Confucius,  like  Buddha,  left  his  wife  shortly  after  the  birth  of 
his  first  child,  and  devoted  himself  to  contemplation  and  to  promul- 
gating his  philosophy.  In  his  writings  we  first  find  recorded  the 
golden  rule : “What  you  do  not  want  done  to  yourself,  do  not  do  to 
others.”  Neither  of  them  taught  of  a hell,  or  purgatorial  suffer- 
ings, and  both  held  that  children  were  born  pure  and  perfect, 
without  the  taint  of  sin.  So  much  for  Chinese  religion. 

In  amusements,  the  Chinese  keep  rigidly  their  New  Year,  their 
festival  lasting  with  them  a week.  This  celebration  does  not  occur 
on  a certain,  fixed  date,  as  our  first  of  January,  but  is  governed  by 
the  moon,  as  is  our  Easter  and  falls  somewhere  between  the  21st 
of  January  and  the  20th  of  February.  They  are  regular  patrons 
to  their  theatres,  where  interminable  plays  hold  the  stage  for  weeks ; 
their  dramas  being  on  the  plan  of  our  continued  stories.  Their 
plays  are  all  tragedies ; of  comedy  they  have  no  idea.  Gambling  is 
followed  by  all  classes,  it  not  being  accounted  by  them  wrong  to 
spend  their  own  money  in  any  way  they  choose. 

Their  peculiarities  are  many;  they  smoke  cigars  and  pipes,  but 
never  chew  tobacco.  They  never  drink  cold  water.  They  never 
walk  abreast,  but  one  after  the  other.  They  use  no  animals  in  their 
labors.  Their  carriages  are  sedan  chairs.  They  have  no  politics. 
Widows  must  wait  three  years  after  the  death  of  their  husbands 
before  re-marriage,  and  even  then  the  man  who  marries  a widow 
is  held  in  contempt.  No  display  is  allowed  to  the  widow-bride. 
White  is  their  badge  of  mourning.  They  do  no  courting,  their 
marriages  being  arranged  by  old  women,  who  follow  match-making 
as  a profession.  In  the  street  the  wife  must  walk  at  a suitable  dis- 
tance behind  her  “lord  and  master,”  as  her  husband  truly  is.  In 
China  polygamy  is  somewhat  practiced,  and  the  killing  of  female 
children  is  common,  though  generally  denounced. 

The  idle  stories  of  their  “rice-and-rat  eating”  propensities  are 
easily  disproved  by  any  candid  inquirer,  who  will  take  the  trouble 
to  consult  the  butcher,  patronized  by  these  queer  people.  Pork 
and  chickens  are  their  favorite  meats ; peas  and  potatoes  their 


THE  CHINESE  QUESTION. 


597 


preference  in  vegetables,  and  they  are  partial  to  all  kinds  of  sweet- 
meats. They  use  a great  deal  of  fruit,  but  little  bread.  Tea  is 
their  universal  table  beverage  and  this  they  drink  scalding  hot  and 
without  sugar  or  milk. 

How  long  these  strange  beings  have  maintained  their  exclusive 
civilization,  within  the  walls  of  their  unchanging  empire,  we  will 
never  know,  but  it  is  certain  that  thousands  of  years  ago,  when  the 
ancestors  of  the  Saxon  and  the  Celt,  the  Anglo-Norman  and  the 
Teutonic  races  were  rude  barbarians,  clad  only  in  the  skins  of  wild 
beasts  and  living  by  the  chase,  the  progenitor  of  the  California 
Chinaman  of  to-day  enjoyed  his  printing  press  and  his  tillage,  and 
clad  in  silken  fabrics,  was  familiar  with  gun-powder  and  mechanic 
arts,  some  of  which  are  new  to  us  even  at  the  present  time.  All 
the  mutations  of  time  have  failed  to  change  him  in  character,  phy- 
siognomy or  habits,  and  while  the  rest  of  the  world  has  been  revo- 
lutionized by  the  onward  rush  of  the  hours  and  the  steady  march  of 
progress,  this  gigantic  empire  alone  has  known  no  change. 

McLellan  truthfully  says  of  it:  “In  the  material  world  centuries 
upon  centuries  have  rolled  away — kings,  governments  and  dynasties 
grown  and  disappeared — Persia,  Assyria,  Egypt,  Greece  and  Rome 
flourished  and  faded  away — the  eternal  hills  themselves  have  lifted 
and  lowered  their  heads  in  the  lapse  of  time,  but  the  Chinese  nation 
and  the  Chinese  people  remain  unchanged.  No  admixture  of  other 
races  leaves  a single  line  upon  their  physical  mould;  nor  do  the 
busy  changes  in  science,  government,  society  or  religion  leave  a 
single  imprint  upon  the  stereotyped  conditions  of  these  people, 
whose  primeval  customs,  literature  and  religion  are  as  active  and 
fresh  as  they  were  centuries  before  the  deluge,  the  dispersion  at 
Babel  and  the  rule  of  Kublai  Khan.  The  China  of  to-day  is  but  the 
Cathay  of  centuries  ago.” 

Affecting  by  preference  the  mining  camps  of  the  western  territo- 
ries, we  find  him  making  his  way  as  laundryman  to  all  of  the  larger 
and  many  of  the  smaller  cities  of  the  United  States.  Not  able  to 
compete  at  heavy  labor  with  the  brawny  members  of  the  Caucasian 
families,  we  find  him  an  invaluable  servant  in  all  the  lighter  depart- 
ments of  manual  toil. 

Years  of  continued  residence  in  San  Francisco  have  failed  to 
confirm  the  alleged  danger  of  his  spreading  amongst  the  whites  the 
dread  disease  of  leprosy.  It  is,  in  fact,  probable,  that  under  his 


598 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


better  sanitary  conditions  and  with  the  more  generous  food  he  is 
able  to  obtain  in  this  country,  this  disease  will  disappear  entirely 
from  his  race. 

As  to  the  female  prostitution,  so  prevalent  amongst  Chinawomen  in 
California,  that  is  due  to  the  fact  that  none,  save  prostitutes,  are 
brought  to  this  country.  That  courtesans  exist  in  China  was 
certainly  to  be  expected,  as  the  6 ‘strange  woman”  has  at  all  times 
and  ages  and  in  all  countries,  been  regarded  as  one  of  the  necessary 
evils  of  society. 

Cultured  Greece  and  martial  Rome,  as  well  as  their  most  barbar- 
ous foemen,  admitted  these  women  to  a place  in  their  social  econo- 
mies, and  even  amongst  God’s  chosen  people  they  were  not  unknown. 

Socrates,  the  grandest  of  mortals,  has  been  charmed  with  the  dis- 
courses of  Aspasia;  and  even  Solomon,  the  wisest  of  men,  was  not 
indifferent  to  the  scarlet  women  of  his  day — how,  then,  can  we 
expect  of  the  Chinaman,  an  Asiatic  and  a Buddhist,  a purity  not 
exhibited  by  Jewish  sage,  Hellenic  philosopher,  Roman  general,  or 
Christian  civilian? 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


EARLY  TYPES  OF  CALIFORNIA  SOCIETY. 


THE  EFFECT  OF  HEREDITY THE  ROUNDHEAD HARDY  AND  BRAVE 

SOMEWHAT  FANATICAL INGENIOUS,  PRACTICAL,  CAREFUL THE  SLAVE 

OF  DUTY A MAN  OF  IRON THE  CAVALIER ADVENTUROUS 

GRACEFUL LIBERAL HOT-BLOODED TOO  RECKLESS ROMAN- 
TIC  A WORSHIPPER  OF  HONOR POLISHED  STEEL -THE  WESTERN 

MAN LOVE  OF  EXCITEMENT A GLADIATOR COURAGEOUS A HAR- 

DY HERO THE  OPEN  COMBAT UNBOUNDED  FAITH UNYIELDING 

BRAVERY THE  CALIFORNIAN  OF  TO-DAY “THE  MAN  OF  '49” A 

COSMOPOLITE THE  SWARMING  NATIONS CONTINUAL  EXCITEMENT 

LAVISH  PRODIGALITY WEALTHY  CITIZENS CONDITION  OF  CALIFORNIA 

THE  HISTORY  OF  GOLD NORTH  CAROLINA A HANDY  PIG-PELTER 

MEADOW  CREEK GOLD  IN  THE  SOUTH AUSTRALIA JAMES  BU- 
CHANAN  “OVER  THE  DUMP” MINERAL  PRODUCTION BIG  NUGGETS 

VIRGIN  SILVER PROSPECTORS GAMBLERS GREASER  GAMBLING 

WALL  STREET  OPERATORS BUNCO  MEN THE  CALIFORNIA  “SPORT” 

A GAME  MAN BUCKING  AGAINST  THE  INEVITABLE. 


In  any  country,  no  matter  by  whom  settled,  we  can  see  for  ages 
the  indelible  imprint  of  its  pioneers  upon  the  character  and  habits, 
the  physiognomy,  and  even  the  very  minds  of  the  population. 
Thus  we  have  in  New  England,  the  descendantof  the  “Roundhead,” 
the  man  who  fought  with  Cromwell  and  prayed  with  “Barebones.” 

Like  his  progenitor,  he  is  hardy,  brave  and  frugal.  Somewhat 
a fanatic  is  he  in  all  of  his  beliefs,  intolerant  and  grasping.  Inge- 
nuity is  his  and  a patient  industry,  that  effects  wonders  in  over- 
coming obstacles.  He  is  a man  of  shifts  and  expedients,  practical, 
not  romantic.  He  trusts  to  no  miracle  and  with  all  of  his  depend- 
ence on  Providence,  he  does  not  neglect  to  keep  his  powder  dry. 

His  life  is  hard,  his  scope  narrow,  but  his  mind  is  keen,  and  put- 
ting duty  before  the  beautiful,  will  follow  it  manfully.  He  will  die 
as  quickly  to  crush  out  his  neighbor’s  creeds  as  he  will  to  defend  his 
own.  Of  the  metals  he  best  compares  with  iron,  such  is  his  endur- 
ance and  his  hardness.  His  gods  are  the  practical  and  the  useful. 

In  Virginia  and  the  Carolinas,  we  have  the  descendant  of  the 
Cavaliers  who  rode  into  battle  under  their  ill-fated  leaders  with 
ruffled  shirts  and  ringleted  heads.  In  their  ranks  there  was  more  of 

599 


600 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


swearing  and  singing  of  love  songs  than  of  prayer  and  hymn,  but 
there  was  no  hypocricy.  They  fought  and  bled  for  king  and  cause, 
as  cheerfully  as  they  would  “indite  a sonnet  to  their  mistress’  eye- 
brows,” and  whether  their  king  was  good,  or  cause  was  worthy, 
they  still  fought  as  bravely  and  as  long. 

They  were  of  the  strain  of  the  Knights  Crusaders;  the  adventur- 
ous sire  had  propagated  the  daring  son.  Graceful  of  manner  and 
comely  of  person,  their  speech  was  a benediction,  their  smile  a 
caress.  Large  of  heart  and  broad  of  view,  hospitality  was  a relig- 
ious duty,  toleration  a universal  law. 

Quick  of  temper  and  over-zealous  to  avenge  an  insult,  they  were 
somewhat  too  ready  to  anticipate  the  law,  and  human  life  was  held 
at  too  cheap  a rate.  Found  always  on  the  weaker  side,  they  hated 
tyranny,  while  arrogating  to  themselves  a patriarchial  power. 
Romantic  in  temperament,  they  too  much  lacked  patience  of  toil 
and  frugality  of  disposition. 

Honor  was  the  fetich  of  their  worship  and  courage  the  standard 
of  their  manhood.  Their  fiber  was  that  of  the  Damascus  blade, 
graceful,  keen,  pliant  and  beautiful;  excellent  in  some  things,  but 
lacking  in  others. 

The  man  of  Kentucky,  Ohio,  Illinois  and  Missouri  was  The  latter 
type  grown  more  hardy.  He  was  the  second  son  of  the  second  son, 
joining  to  a hardier  stature,  a more  intense  love  of  excitement 
and  a stronger  contempt  for  danger.  Added  yet  to  this  was  a fixed- 
ness of  purpose,  somewhat  foreign  to  the  sire;  a determination  to 
carve  out  an  empire,  while  fashioning  a home.  Here  was  a hero 
worthy  to  have  sailed  with  Jason;  a warrior  fit  to  have  battled  with 
Achilles.  Here  was  the  frame  of  the  gladiator  thewed  and  sinewed 
to  struggle  in  broad  arenas  for  mighty  empires,  and  this  was  anima- 
ted with  the  courage  of  the  demi-god  and  the  hardihood  of  the  Lybian 
lion. 

Not  that  he  was  an  unthinking  wild  beast,  fierce  with  a thirst  for 
blood,  killing  for  the  sake  of  slaughter.  This  does  not  truly  type 
him,  for  to  courage  he  added  conduct,  and  to  giant  strength, 
a womanly  pity.  Neither  did  he  disdain  stratagem,  though  he 
preferred  the  combat  of  the  open  field;  and  against  the  skulking 
wolves,  these  lions  did  not  disdain  to  use  the  cunning  of  the  fox, 
when  swarming  numbers  seemed  an  overmatch  for  god-like  courage. 

Dashing  into  the  uncertainties  of  the  unequal  contest,  their  faith 


EARLY  TYPES  OF  CALIFORNIA  SOCIETY.  Ml 

never  failed  them,  nor  their  courage  wavered,  and  whether  the 
closely  curtained  future  held  for  them  glorious  victory,  or  a horrible 
death,  they  pushed  on  bravely  against  the  most  terrible  odds. 

So  the  Californian  of  to-day  bears  the  imprint  of  “the  man  of 
’49.”  The  cosmopolitan  character  of  the  immigration  and  the  specu- 
lative ideas  of  the  era  have  made  the  Californian  a distinctive  type 
of  the  American  race,  with  virtues  and  vices  peculiar  to  himself.  In 
order  to  understand  his  character,  it  will  be  necessary  to  take  a short 
survey  of  the  times  of  the  pioneers  of  ’49  and  also  of  the  conditions 
by  which  they  were  surrounded. 

No  city  on  the  globe  had  so  mixed  a population  as  did  the  metropo- 
lis of  “the  Slope,”  at  this  time.  Here  were  gathered  adventurers 
from  every  nation  and  every  clime.  Here  was  the  piratical  sailor 
from  the  China  seas ; the  Malay  with  his  square  face  and  his  deadly 
crease ; the  tattoed Polynesian,  and  the  gentle  Islander  from  Honolulu. 
Side  by  side  with  the  vivacious  Frenchman,  was  the  phlegmatic  Ger- 
man, enemies  by  natural  antipathies;  the  Spaniard  and  the  Yankee, 
the  Southerner  and  the  Scandinavian,  the  man  of  Missouri  and  of 
Michigan ; the  hardy  Kanuc  and  the  Sidney  convict,  all  swarmed  to 
the  Eldorado  of  the  Pacific. 

Of  their  day  and  nation  each  of  these  men  was,  if  not  the  most 
scrupulous,  at  least  the  most  adventurous  and  speculative.  The  dis- 
honest were  the  boldest;  the  honest  the  most  hardy  of  their  class. 
Life  was  one  continual  excitement  day  and  night,  and  speculation, 
gambling  and  adventure  ruled  the  hours.  So  we  find  the  Californian 
of  to-day — bold,  self-confident,  speculative  and  above  all  adven- 
turous. 

The  chambermaid  in  the  hotel,  the  porter  on  the  street,  the 
stevedore  at  the  wharves  and  the  minister  in  the  pulpit  dip  into 
speculative  mining,  and  bull  and  bear  shares  upon  the  call-board  like 
full-fledged  stock  brokers.  The  lavish  prodigality  that  character- 
ized the  flush  times  of  her  early  mining  days,  is  reflected  in  the  open 
hearted  generosity  of  the  present. 

The  pompous  display  enjoyed  by  those,  into  whose  laps  Fortune 
cast  golden  showers,  still  flares  out  in  the  vainglorious  show  of  her 
bonanza  millionaires  of  to-day,  whose  wives  flaunt  in  London  and  in 
Paris  arrays  of  jewels,  that  might  have  purchased  the  freedom  of  a 
dozen  captive  kings.  Their  gilded  palaces  in  San  Francisco  and  New 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


York  glitter  with  meretricious  gilding  and  every  where  hint  of  the 
possession  of  wealth,  but  the  absence  of  taste. 

So  much  for  the  character  of  her  men.  Now  let  us  glance  at  the 
condition  of  the  State,  and  in  order  to  do  this  intelligently,  it  will 
first  be  necessary  to  see  how,  in  building  up  these  private  fortunes 
her  blessings  have  been  of  wider  scope  and  with  an  unselfish  beni- 
son  have  blessed  humanity  and  enriched  the  world.  If  we  seek  to 
inquire  into  the  history  of  gold,  we  find  it  enumerated  as  one  of  the 
sources  of  wealth  as  early  as  the  time  of  Abraham  and,  in  fact,  the 
scriptures  mention  it  in  the  description  of  the  Garden  of  Eden. 
Aaron  made  a calf  of  gold  for  the  Hebrews  to  worship,  and  in  several 
places  in  the  Bible  we  are  told  of  the  Jews,  even  at  that  time  a peo- 
ple more  tricky  than  valiant  or  honest,  despoiling  their  enemies  and 
their  own  relatives,  as  well,  of  the  precious  metal. 

Solomon,  in  his  “song”  of  somewhat  more  than  doubtful  moral- 
ity, mentions  his  chariot,  whose  “bottom  is  of  gold.”  The  land  of 
Ophir  teemed  with  the  auriferous  metal.  Cortez  and  Pizarro  found 
the  Mexicans  and  Peruvians  rich  in  this  species  of  mineral  product 
and  skilled  workers  in  its  extraction  and  fashioning.  The  Grecians 
and  Romans  possessed  gold,  though  their  coin  was  chiefly  of  silver; 
so  did  the  Colchians  and  Africans. 

In  1492  America  was  discovered — at  that  time  all  of  the  precious 
metals  in  Europe  represented  a value  of  one  hundred  and  seventy- 
five  million  dollars.  A hundred  years  after,  it  had  increased  to 
nearly  seven  hundred  millions.  In  the  United  States  gold  was  first 
discovered  in  North  Carolina.  A truant  boy,  named  Conrad  Read, 
was  fishing  and  bathing  in  the  clear  waters  of  Meadow  Creek,  in 
Cabarrus  County,  in  that  State.  The  day  was  Sunday,  but  instead 
of  getting  himself  drowned  as  poetic  justice,  according  to  Sunday 
school  literature,  demanded,  he  found  a lump  of  gold  as  large  as  a 
small  flat-iron  and  added  a new  industry  to  the  Atlantic  Coast. 

Taking  it  home,  his  father  prized  it  so  highly  and  estimated  its 
value  so  correctly,  that  it  was  used  as  a door-weight,  and  when  not 
in  that  employ,  came  handy  to  throw  at  vagrant  dogs  and  intrusive 
porkers.  The  find  occurred  in  1799,  and  in  1802,  Read,  sr.,  became 
suddenly  curious  about  the  door-weight  and  carried  it  to  Fayetteville, 
where  a jeweler  tested  it;  pronounced  it  gold,  and  paid  the  old  man 
over  three  hundred  dollars  for  it,  probably  one-fourth  of  its  value. 


EARLY  TYPES  OE  CALIFORNIA  SOCIETY. 


m 


Meadow  Creek  now  became  the  scene  of  an  excitement  and  pros- 
pecting for  gold  was  vigorously  pushed.  The  next  year  one  nugget 
was  found  that  weighed  sixteen;  another,  twenty-eight  pounds. 
Twenty-eight  years  later  a quartz  vein  was  found  and  now  gold 
mining  became  a regular  business.  Gold  was  also  found  in  South 
Carolinia,  Georgia,  Alabama  and  Virginia.  Up  to  the  discovery  of 
gold  in  California  these  States  had  yielded  between  forty  and  fifty 
millions  of  dollars  worth  of  the  precious  metal  and  its  production 
still  continues,  though  but  feebly. 

In  1851  Australia  began  turning  out  immense  quantities  of  gold, 
and  of  the  four  billions  now  in  circulation  throughout  the  world, 
California  and  Australia  each  furnished  one  billion;  or  the  two 
together,  one  half  of  all  the  gold  in  existence  and  that,  too,  in  the 
space  of  twenty  years. 

Although  placer  gold  had  been  found  in  California  in  1775,  in 
1808,  in  1828,  in  1835,  in  1838  and  in  1841,  at  various  places,  yet 
the  discoverers  did  not  think  it  amounted  to  anything,  because  it  did 
not  lie  on  the  surface  of  the  ground  by  the  bucketful.  The  Thomas 
O.  Larkin  already  alluded  to,  as  the  American  consul  at  Monterey, 
was  the  first  who  placed  any  great  amount  of  faith  in  the  mineral 
richness  of  the  Pacific  Slope. 

In  1846  he  wrote  to  James  Buchanan,  then  Secretary  of  State, 
that:  “There  is  no  doubt  but  gold,  silver,  quicksilver,  copper, 
lead,  sulphur  and  coal  mines  are  to  be  found  all  over  California.” 
Its  “manifest  destiny”  then  became  apparent  and  two  months  after, 
Commodore  Sloat  had  planted  the  American  flag-staff  in  the  plaza 
at  Monterey  and  the  stars  and  stripes  waved  over  these  gorgeous 
deposits  of  mineral  wealth. 

The  next  step  was  the  discovery  of  James  W.  Marshall  and  the 
rush  that  we  have  already  seen.  First  there  was  the  primitive  gold 
pan,  next  the  rocker,  then  the  long-tom,  and  as  the  dirt  decreased  in 
richness  and  the  mining  increased  in  depth  and  difficulty,  then  came 
in  the  flume,  the  sluice  and  the  hydraulic  hose  and  nozel.  Quartz 
leads,  too,  began  to  be  discovered,  and  the  arastra,  the  patio,  the 
stamp  mills  and  the  smelter  came  into  play. 

Owing  to  the  cost  of  treatment  of  quartz  ores,  all  mineral  went 
“over  the  dump,”  that  did  not  run,  in  some  districts  ten  dollars  to 
the  ton,  in  others  thirty.  How  much  wealth  lies  in  these  abandoned 
dumps  may  be  guessed  at,  when  it  is  known  that  in  Austria  and 


604 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Russia,  these  ores  can  be  treated  at  a cost  of  less  than  one  dollar  per 
ton,  and  this  must  eventually  be  the  case  in  America. 

While  on  this  subject  let  us  venture  a little  out  of  the  limits  of 
California  and  give  a few  condensed  statistics  in  regard  to  mining. 
The  total  production  of  precious  metals  in  Mexico  and  on  the  Pacific 
Slope,  since  the  discovery  of  America,  has  been  nearly,  if  not  quite, 
five  billions  of  dollars;  this  amount  includes  silver  as  well  as  gold. 
It  is  calculated  that  one-third  of  all  the  gold  that  is  mined  goes  into 
Asia,  is  made  into  ornaments  and  never  returns  to  the  channels 
of  trade.  Of  nuggets  we  find  masses  of  gold  weighing  from  a few 
pennyweights  to  many  pounds. 

The  Ballarat  nugget,  in  Australia,  weighed  over  one  hundred 
pounds.  I have  seen  a photograph  of  another  Australian  nugget, 
said  to  be  from  four  to  six  times  as  large  as  the  Ballarat. 


“Don  Domingo  Asmendi  paid  duties  on  a piece  of  virgin  silver, 
which  weighed  two  hundred  and  seventy-five  pounds. 

“The  King’s  attorney  brought  suit  for  the  recovery  as  a curiosity 
and,  therefore,  the  property  of  royalty,  of  a certain  piece  of  silver 
weighing  two  thousand  seven  hundred  pounds. 

“This  attorney  also  brought  suit  for  duties  on  several  pieces, 
which,  together,  weighed  four  thousand  and  thirty-three  pounds.” 

In  the  train  of  the  prospector  and  the  miner  there  followed  the 
capitalist,  the  mining  broker  and  others  less  reputable.  There 
came  the  expert  gambler,  steady  of  nerve,  keen  of  eye  and  dex- 
terous of  hand.  His  dress  was  irreproachable,  his  manners  courtly, 


EARLY  TYPES  OF  CALIFORNIA  SOCIETY. 


605 


and  his  courage  cool.  His  trained  nerves  did  not  tremble  at  the 
gain  or  loss  of  thousands  and  exteriorly  he  was  cool  as  an  iceberg, 
while  excitement  was  the  mistress  of  his  bosom. 

He  was  the  incarnation  of  that  feverish  passion  that,  since  the 
beginning  of  the  world,  has  possessed  men  and  that,  until  the  end 
of  time,  will  still  master  them.  If  one  means  is  denied  him  of 
gratifying  his  longing  for  the  excitement  of  chance,  another  will 
suffice.  Take  away  cards,  dice,  the  roulette  wheel,  the  skying  of 
coppers,  chess  and  checker-boards,  yachts,  horses,  and  still  the 
elements  will  furnish  him  with  material. 

In  Old  Mexico  I’ve  seen  “the  Greasers”  try  their  luck  and  gratify 
their  gaming  mania  by  depositing  a handful  of  small  coins  and  a 
cigar,  each,  upon  the  ground.  Fortune — in  the  embodiment  of  a fly 
— lighted  upon  one  of  the  cigars  and  its  lucky  owner  pocketed  the 
pool.  In  Denver,  Binford  and  Pierce,  two  honest  gamblers  of  the 
old  school;  straightforward,  honorable  men,  tired  of  cards  and  dice 
and  wheel,  adjourned  to  a back  yard  and  played  at  the  boyish  game 
of  marbles;  fifty  dollars  depending  on  each  and  every  shot. 

The  Wall  Street  operator  and  the  Exchange  merchant  disdaining 
the  ordinary  apparatus,  make  cotton,  corn  and  sugar,  the  subjects 
of  their  bets,  while  in  the  “bucket  shops”  the  youthful  clerk  imitates 
their  example.  The  bunco  man,  with  a rare  knowledge  of  humanity, 
takes  in  alike  the  deacon  and  the  poet — Elder  Standish,  or  Oscar 
Wilde.  The  California  “sporting  man,”  as  he  terms  himself,  is  the 
one  with  whom  we  have  to  do,  and  I once  heard  him  well  described 
by  one  of  his  comrades:  “Why,  sir,  Jim’s  the  gamiest  man  alive  ! 
He’ll  buck  right  up  agin  the  inevitable,  and  I do  believe  if  you’d 
offer  odds,  he’d  put  up  on  being  able  to  swallow  himself.”  Gener- 
ous, betting  on  any  and  everything,  ready  at  all  times  for  a bout  at 
faro  and  poker,  or  for  a duel  to  the  death  with  bowie  or  revolver, 
this  was  one  of  the  parasites  that  fattened  upon  the  simple  miner. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


CALIFORNIA  CRIMINALS  AND  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEES. 


“THE  DAUGHTER  OF  THE  HORSE  LEECH” MESSALINA,  EMPRESS  OF  ROME 

“THE  SERPENT  OF  OLD  NILE” “THE  FAIREST  HELEN” A FIRMLY 

FIXED  FACT HER  MISSION THE  DESCENT  OF  AVERNUS THE  DOWN- 
WARD PATH THE  FRONTIER  DANCE-HOUSE A HIDEOUS  WRECK 

A COMPANION  PICTURE THE  ORCHESTRA A FIENDISH  REVEL THE 

DANCE  OF  DEATH THE  DESPERADO HIS  ALIASES GENERAL  CHAR- 
ACTER  PLAYING  A SUCKER A BAD  MAN A WILLING  CREDITOR 

THE  IMITATION,  AND  THE  REAL  ARTICLE BIDS  FOR  MURDER THE 

VIGILANTES “SHORT  SHRIFT” THE  LEGEND A GOOD  THING  OVER- 

DONE  A ZEALOT RABID  WRITING SOWING  THE  WIND KILLED 

BY  CASEY AN  UNLAWFUL  MOB THE  MAYOR’S  SPEECH CORA  AND 

CASEY  MURDERED SHERMAN  COMMISSIONED RESIGNS APPEAL  TO 

THE  PRESIDENT THE  GOVERNOR  DEFIED STATE  ARMS  STOLEN 

THE  ATTACK  ON  TERRY HIS  BRAVERY HELD  A PRISONER COM- 
MITTEE PARADES  AND  DISBANDS TREATMENT  OF  TERRY. 


The  “scarlet  woman”  was  another  parasite;  a regular  “daughter 
of  the  horse  leach,  saying,  ‘give,  give’ ; ” a creature  that  in  all  ages 
of  the  world  has  appeared  in  the  list  of  “necessary  evils,”  often 
making  no  mean  figure,  either,  upon  the  page  of  history — as  witness 
the  celebrated  Aspasia,  and  Messalina,  empress  of  imperial  Rome. 
Cleopatra,  too,  the  “serpent  of  old  Nile,”  overturned  the  plans  of 
Antony,  and  changed  the  destinies  of  the  world.  “The  fairest 
Helen”  precipitated  a war  between  the  Greeks  and  Trojans,  that 
razed  the  walls  and  battlements  of  Illium,  wiped  out  a nation  and 
was  the  cause  of  unnumbered  ills  to  the  victors. 

She  was  a firmly  fixed  fact  in  the  God-governed  economy  of  the 
Jews,  and  so  long  as  man  is  base  and  woman  weak,  so  long  will  she 
continue  an  ineradicable  blot  upon  our  boasted  civilization,  working 
out  some  inscrutable  plan  of  the  Omniscient  and  Omnipotent  Father 
of  all.  That  she  does  fill  some  ordained  place  in  the  body  politic, 
we  are  led  to  believe  from  the  fact,  that  so  far,  the  combined  wis- 
dom of  the  centuries  has  been  unable  to  banish  her  from  society. 

Of  all  her  class,  the  couHesan  of  the  mining  camps  is  the  most 
hopelessly  degraded.  Her  progress  thus  far  has  been  a terrible  one, 
and  even  yet  she  must  sink  lower.  She  has  “left  hope  behind,” 

GOG 


CALIFORNIA  CRIMINALS  AND  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEES.  607 


and  for  her  footsteps  there  is  no  return  from  the  paths  of  vice,  from 
the  mire  of  degradation.  Hounded  by  the  fatality  of  a Salathiel, 
her  course  leads  on  and  on,  until  at  last  she  is  carted  to  the  Potter’s 
field  to  fill  a pauper’s  grave.  From  the  palatial  mansion  of  some 
city  procuress,  where  for  a short  space  she  may  have  reigned  a queen 
of  the  demi  monde,  she  goes  down,  and  down,  and  down,  (for  vice 
has  its  grades  and  Horace  truly  says:  “No  one  becomes  suddenly 
thoroughly  base),”  and  at  last  we  behold  her  in  some  frontier  dance- 
house,  her  eyes  bleared  with  horrible  dissipation;  her  breath  reek- 
ing with  the  fumes  of  the  vilest  whisky;  every  trace  of  her  former 
freshness  and  beauty  gone;  her  death-like  face  covered  with  a 
grimy  mask  of  white  lead  and  rouge;  her  form  wasted  and  her 
voice  husky,  dancing  with  some  drunken  miner  or  with  some  com- 
panion wretch  of  the  male  species,  bankrupt  in  honor,  honesty  and 
decency,  as  utter  a wreck  as  herself,  sharing  her  paltry  gains  and  a 
mere  libel  on  the  name  of  man. 

A fiddle,  a cornet  and  a banjo,  make  the  music  for  the  orgie,  and 
with  ribald  oath  and  jest  and  laugh  the  dance  goes  madly  on.  To 
the  sober  spectator  it  almost  seems  a revel  of  death,  as  though 
plague-stricken  maniacs,  in  the  last  stages  of  delirium  and  disease, 
were  wearing  out  their  little  remnant  of  life  to  the  dolorous  strains 
that  arise  from  the  discordant  orchestra.  The  dance  over,  the  mis- 
erable creature  fires  up  with  the  liquid  damnation  that  frenzies  her, 
and  if  in  the  abodes  of  the  accursed,  there  are  scenes  more  hideous, 
they  must  be  terrible  indeed. 

Do  no  visions  of  her  once  pure  girlhood  ever  float  over  her  mind  ? 
Does  her  mother’s  soft  voice  never  plead  to  her,  nor  a father’s  gray 
hairs,  brought  in  sorrow  to  the  grave,  never  cause  her  to  wish  to 
turn  from  this  death  in  life  and  flee?  No!  for  she  has  banished 
thought  along  with  hope.  No  ! for  one  such  remembrance  would 
madden  her,  and  so,  with  this  Lethean  fire  of  hell,  she  drowns  all 
reflection  and  plunges  on  in  one  unceasing  Bacchanalian  revel, 
whose  continuance  is  frenzy  and  whose  end  is  death. 

This  is  a not  overdrawn  picture  of  another  of  the  gold-seekers’ 
leeches,  whose  saddest  robbery  of  her  victim  is  not  his  loss  of 
money. 

The  desperado  is  another  in  the  list  of  harpies  that  prey  upon  the 
miner,  and  they  are  not  always  satisfied  with  a tribute  of  gold.  Life 
too  often  is  demanded  to  satisfy  their  thirst  for  blood  and  notoriety. 


603 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


The  desperado,  gun-fighter,  bad  man,  or  killer,  for  he  is  known  by 
all  of  these  titles,  is  generally  a compound  of  gambler,  thief,  bravo 
and  pandar.  His  consort  is  usually  one  of  the  poor  creatures  just 
described,  and  when  the  cards  have  been  unlucky,  plunder  unobtain- 
able and  theft  impossible,  he  does  not  hesitate  to  live  upon  the  pro- 
ceeds of  her  sin  and  shame. 

In  his  combats  he  ever  wishes  “the  drop;7’  failing  in  this  he  will 
bide  his  time,  knowing  how,  with  proper  show  of  bluster,  to  back 
down  when  his  opponent  has  an  equal  chance.  When  necessity 
presses,  he  screws  his  courage  to  the  sticking  point  and  with  sand- 
bag, or  bludgeon,  assails  some  solitary  footman,  generally  choosing 
one  too  drunk  to  give  him  any  trouble.  His  “best  hold,”  however, 
to  use  a Westernism,  is  bluffing  the  verdant  pilgrim  just  freshly 
arrived  from  the  East. 

Pulling  his  heavy  revolvers  around  to  the  front,  so  that  their  han- 
dles may  show,  he  ruffles  his  hair,  and  approaching  his  victim  with 
fierce  glances  and  horrible  oaths,  some  such  colloquy  as  this  begins 
(Desperado,  yawning  and  stretching): 

“Seen  yer  before,  young  feller  ! Can’t  call  yer  name.  Oh  yes, 
Jones.  Lemme  tell  you,  Jones,  this  here  bad  place;  heap  er  bad 
men;  bad  man  myself ; saved  yer  life  other  night.  Don’t  tell  me 
I lie!  (reaching  for  pistol)  Saved  yer  life.  Lend  me  a fiver. 
Ugh-h-h  ! Ain’t  slept  for  a week;  been  drunk  a month;  would  jest 
as  leave  kill  ’er  a man  as  eat.  Ugh-h-h  ! ” 

The  game  generally  succeeds,  the  speech  being  accompanied  by 
significant  motions  towards  his  pistols  and  by  terrible  glances  and  a 
running  volley  of  fierce  oaths.  The  pilgrim,  as  the  greenhorn  was 
known  on  the  plains;  or  the  tenderfoot,  as  he  is  dubbed  in  the 
mountains,  anxious  to  escape  from  the  society  of  so  dangerous  a 
person,  readily  hands  over  the  first  bill  he  comes  to,  and  if  it  should 
happen  to  be  a ten,  instead  of  a five,  he  insists  that  no  change  shall 
be  offered,  and  thanking  his  preserver,  makes  a hurried  departure 
from  the  scene. 

To  these  alleged  desperadoes  might  be  added  the  real  article ; men 
more  dangerous  than  the  thugs  of  India;  human  wild  beasts  who 
having,  like  the  man-eating  tiger,  once  shed  human  blood,  feel  a 
necessity  for  continual  slaughter.  Of  these,  California  had  her 
share,  in  fact,  so  fierce  were  they  and  so  bold  that  they  openly 
banded  together  for  the  commission  of  deeds  of  blood  and  let  their 


CALIFORNIA  CRIMINALS  AND  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEES . 


C09 


services  to  the  highest  bidder  as  Spanish  bravos  upon  the  night- 
darkened  plazas  at  Madrid  or  Seville.  Others  of  them  roamed  the 
streets  day  and  night,  solitary  and  alone,  scorning  pay,  but  killing 
for  the  pure  love  of  murder. 

Boon  Helm  and  his  gang,  called  “Boon  Helm’s  Hounds,”  rioted  in 
the  streets  of  San  Francisco  and  no  man  was  safe  from  their  ven- 
geance; no  woman  from  their  brutality.  They  defied  the  laws.  They 
defied  public  sentiment  and  they  defied  Omnipotence,  but  finally  they 
tried  too  far  the  patience  of  the  people.  In  self-defense  the  citizens 
at  last  rose  up  and  determined  that  murder  and  arson  and  riot  should 
be  banished  from  the  land. 

They  banded  together  against  the  desperadoes ; alike  those  who 
killed  in  bands  or,  single-handed,  made  murder  a profession  and  a 
pastime.  The  worst  were  hung,  the  more  moderate  banished,  those 
who  aided  them  warned.  If  any  refused  to  go  when  ordered,  they 
were  promptly  hanged.  For  a while  this  worked  well.  Judge 
Lynch  administered  law  for  the  Vigilantes  without  cost  or  delay. 
The  intended  victim  was  ordered  to  leave  the  city  within  twenty- 
four  hours,  sometimes  in  a shorter  time.  Some  swore  that  they 
would  not  go,  and  a committee  next  sought  them,  arresting  them 
wherever  found,  whether  at  play  or  at  prayer,  in  church  or  in  bed. 

They  were  next  taken  before  the  judge  of  the  “short  shrift  and 
the  long  rope,”  their  crimes  and  misdemeanors  recited,  their  defense 
heard  and  a tall  tree  with  accessible  limbs  selected.  A rope  was 
now  thrown  across  a branch  and  at  one  end  a noose  was  formed. 
The  victim’s  neck  was  encircled  with  this,  his  hands  tied  behind  his 
back,  five  minutes  granted  him  to  make  his  peace  with  Heaven,  and 
then  unhesitating  hands  seized  the  other  end  of  the  rope  and  with  a 
strong  pull  swung  the  poor  wretch  into  the  air.  The  name  of  the 
man  and  his  crimes  were  written  on  a piece  of  paper  supplemented 
by  the  words,  “the  penalty  whereof  is  death,”  and  signed,  “By 
order  of  the  committee,  406,”  or  some  other  cabalistic  number. 
Sometimes  this  legend  read,  “Hung  for  contempt  of  court,”  some- 
times, “for  stealing  dust,”  etc.  This  was  pinned  to  the  tree  and  the 
body  left  swinging  to  the  limb. 

At  last  the  dangers  which  might  have  been  forseen,  arose  from 
this  lawless  administration  of  law ; the  vigilance  committee  became 
an  instrument  of  private  vengeance.  If  a member  had  a personal 
enemy  he  trumped  up  some  charge  against  him  and  had  him  warned 


610 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


THE  CALIFORNIA  VIGILANTES  EXECUTING  THE  ORDERS  OF  JUDGE  LYNCH. 


CALIFORNIA  CRIMINALS  AND  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEES. 


611 


bj  the  committee.  Conscious  of  his  innocence,  the  accused  would 
net  go  and  of  course  had  to  suffer  for  his  contumacy.  To  such  an 
extent  was  this  carried,  that  the  citizens,  seeing  no  safety  for  any 
nne  outside  of  the  ranks  of  the  committee,  began  to  devise  some 
means  of  putting  a stop  to  its  high-handed  course. 

The  action  taken  by  the  citizens,  aided  by  the  press,  caused  a 
cessation  of  the  meetings  of  the  vigilantes  and  it  was  supposed  that 
tit  had  entirely  passed  out  of  existence,  when  in  1855  the  thug,  the 
thief  and  the  confidence  men  again  began  to  infest  the  city.  A 
panic  had  stricken  San  Francisco  and  financial  distress  had  rendered 
men  desperate.  There  were  also  hints  of  mismanagement  of  the 
public  funds,  of  corruption  in  office,  of  ballot-box  stuffing  and  grave 
crimes  and  misdemeanors.  At  this  time,  when  wise  men  counselled 
an  appeal  to  the  law,  and  were  doing  all  they  could  to  pour  “oil  on 
the  troubled  waters,”  a rash,  hot-headed  zealot,  named  King,  began 
to  edit  the  “Evening  Bulletin.” 

He  was  a fearless  man,  honest  in  intention  and  in  act,  so  far  as  is 
known,  but  he  lacked  judgment.  Applying  the  lash  right  and  left, 
ne  dealt  in  the  harshest  personalities  and  counselled  mob  violence. 
Presuming  that  a man  named  Cora,  accused  of  murder,  was  insuffi- 
ciently guarded,  he  advised  as  follows:  “If  Mr.  Sheriff  Scannell 
does  not  remove  Billy  Mulligan  from  his  present  post,  as  keeper  of 
the  county  jail,  and  Mulligan  lets  Cora  escape,  hang  Billy  Mulligan ; 
}f  necessary  to  get  rid  of  the  sheriff,  hang  him — hang  the  sheriff  !” 

Like  all  industrious  sowers  of  the  wind,  he  reaped  the  whirlwind. 
In  an  attack  of  a similar  intemperate  tone  upon  a member  of  the  Board 
of  Supervisors,  (Casey,)  he  alluded  to  him  as  an  ex-convict  from 
Sing-Sing.  A few  hours  after  the  article  appeared,  Casey  shot  King 
down  in  the  street.  Casey  was  promptly  arrested  and  the  military 
ordered  out  to  protect  the  jail  from  the  old  vigilante  spirit  of  the 
mob,  which  was  rapidly  gathering. 

The  mayor  attempted  to  disperse  the  infuriated  crowds,  but  they 
had  scented  blood.  They  were  assured  that  Casey  had  been  promptly 
arrested,  was  now  securely  confined  and  would  be  dealt  with  accord- 
ing to  the  law  of  the  land.  They  were  entreated,  as  good  citizens, 
to  disperse  quietly  to  their  homes,  that  justice  would  be  dealt  to  all 
fairly  and  without  favor. 

This  speech  was  drowned  in  yells;  the  mob  wanted  blood,  not 
words.  The  books  of  the  vigilance  committee  were  now  opened, 


612 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


and  immense  numbers  of  names  enrolled.  The  press,  with  one 
exception,  counselled  moderation;  that  one  denounced  the  illegal 
organization.  Before  the  death  of  King,  the  mob  mounted  a brass 
field  piece  before  the  jail,  demanded  and  obtained  Casey  and  Cora 
and  carried  them  to  the  committee  headquarters,  where  they  were 
held  under  strong  guard.  King  died  the  next  day,  and  a day  later 
his  corpse  was  followed  to  the  grave  by  an  immense  crowd,  which, 
on  its  return,  was  greeted  by  the  sight  of  the  corpses  of  Cora  and 
Casey  swinging  from  the  second-story  windows  of  the  committee’s 
rooms. 

This  hasty  action  was  followed  by  warning  some  of  the  most  noto- 
rious characters  and  the  moral  atmosphere  was  greatly  purified. 
Every  good  citizen  now  hoped  that  the  committee  would  disband, 
and  the  press  and  pulpit  began  to  oppose  its  longer  continuance, 
but  either  charmed  with  the  possession  of  power,  or  from  some 
other  cause,  its  meetings  steadily  continued.  Seeing  that  it  was 
obstructing  the  process  of  the  law  and  setting  a dangerous  example, 
Governor  Johnson,  on  the  3rd  day  of  June,  1856,  declared  the  city 
of  San  Francisco  in  a state  of  insurrection. 

Wm.  T.  Sherman  was  commissioned  as  a Major-General  of  State 
troops;  all  militia  companies  and  all  persons  subject  to  military  duty 
were  ordered  to  report  to  him,  and  the  vigilantes  warned  to  disband. 
This  was  certainly  the  duty  of  the  Governor  and  it  was  equally  the 
duty  of  all  law-abiding  citizens  to  obey  his  commands,  but  the 
vigilantes  began  to  enroll  additional  members,  fortified  their  rooms 
and  made  every  arrangement  to  oppose  by  force  the  behests  of  their 
Governor. 

The  latter  now  appealed  to  the  President  for  aid,  but  the  President 
declined  to  interfere.  Sherman  added  to  the  difficulties  of  Johnson’s 
situation  by  resigning.  His  resignation  was  promptly  accepted  and 
Volney  E.  Howard  appointed  in  his  place.  A shipment  of  State 
arms  to  Major  Howard  was  seized  by  the  vigilance  committee.  This 
shipment  was  in  charge  of  Reuben  Maloney.  Another  schooner  had 
left  Sacramento  at  the  same  time,  ostensibly  loaded  with  brick,  but 
removing  a few  layers  of  these,  the  vigilantes  discovered  a second 
cargo  of  arms  for  Howard’s  troops. 

Both  installments  were  taken  to  the  arsenal  of  the  Vigilance  Com- 
mittee, thus  adding  to  their  defiance  of  the  law,  theft  of  State  anus. 


CALIFORNIA  CRIMINALS  AND  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEES. 


G13 


So  infatuated  had  the  rioters  now  become  with  their  power  and  suc- 
cess, that  they  ordered  Maloney  to  appear  and  explain  his  connec- 
tion with  convoying  these  arms.  Maloney,  instead  of  complying 
with  this  insolent  command,  took  refuge  in  the  office  of  Dr.  H.  P. 
Ashe,  United  States  Naval  agent  at  that  port. 

One  Hopkins,  of  the  committee’s  alleged  police,  was  detailed  to 
bring  him  at  once.  When  he  arrived,  he  found  Maloney,  Ashe  and 
Judge  David  S.  Terry,  of  the  California  Supreme  Court.  Astounded 
at  the  impudence  of  Hopkins,  these  gentlemen  informed  him  that  no 
such  illegal  arrest  could  be  made  there,  upon  which  Hopkins  returned 
to  headquarters  for  a reinforcement. 

After  his  departure,  Judge  Terry  and  Dr.  Ashe,  not  knowing 
how  far  the  mob  might  carry  their  defiance  of  the  law,  armed  them- 
selves and  started  with  Maloney  to  the  post  of  the  State  troops,  on 
Dupont  street.  Being  seen  by  Hopkins  and  his  gang,  they  were 
followed  and  set  upon  in  the  street,  and  in  the  endeavor  to  defend 
themselves  from  this  infamous  outrage,  Terry  wounded  Hopkins 
seriously  in  the  neck  with  a knife  he  had  drawn.  Hopkins  fell, 
greatly  frightened,  and  the  others  disappeared  rapidly.  The  three 
men  now  made  their  way  to  the  Dupont  street  armory. 

An  immense  mob  of  vigilantes  soon  surrounded  this  building  and 
awed  its  few  defenders  into  giving  up  Terry  and  Maloney,  together 
with  all  of  their  arms.  Ashe  they  feared  to  molest,  as  he  was  a 
United  States  official.  The  mob  next  marched  to  the  smaller  posts 
of  the  State  troops  and  seized  all  of  their  arms,  carrying  off,  also, 
all  of  the  most  prominent  men  who  favored  a return  to  law  and 
order.  These,  with  Terry  and  Maloney,  they  locked  up  in  cells  at 
their  headquarters.  Terry  was  held  a close  prisoner  for  seven 
wTeeks.  In  the  meantime  Hopkins  recovered  and  Terry  was  tried 
and  set  at  liberty.  It  is  said  that  at  his  trial  one  hundred  and  fifty 
witnesses  were  examined.  While  thus  illegally  held,  the  Legislature 
of  Texas,  Terry’s  former  home,  petitioned  the  General  Government 
to  interfere  in  the  matter. 

On  the  18th  day  of  August  the  committee  made  a final  parade; 
on  the  1st  of  September  they  disbanded  and  on  the  3rd  of  Novem- 
ber they  returned  to  the  Governor  the  arms  belonging  to  the  State, 
and  thus  ended  the  longest  reign  of  mob  law  and  of  riot  ever  wit- 
nessed in  the  United  States. 


614 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Although  some  excuse  may  be  found  for  the  first  assembling  of 
the  vigilantes , yet  the  second  was  by  no  means  justified  by  the  cir- 
cumstances, and  after  the  hanging  of  Cora  and  Casey,  the  commit- 


“LISTEN  TO  THE  MOCKING  BIRD”— AN  INCIDENT  OF  PIONEER  DAYS 
IN  CALIFORNIA. 

tee  was  neither  more  nor  less  than  a vicious  mob,  defying  the  con- 
stituted authorities  and  subverting  all  law  and  order.  Their  treat- 
ment  of  Terry,  a member  of  their  Supreme  Bench,  was  infamous. 


CHAPTER  X. 


CALIFORNIA  DUELS. 


A FAVORITE  METHOD  OF  SETTLING  QUARRELS PUBLIC  SENTIMENT ORI- 
GIN OF  THE  DUEL KNIGHTLY  DUTY PENALTY  OF  COWARDICE WHO 

HAVE  PARTICIPATED  IN  SUCH  COMBATS A SINGULAR  DUEL THE  BRUTE 

CHAMPION SIR  WALTER  SCOTT BOON  COMPANIONS THE  BRUTAL 

MURDER THE  FAITHFUL  DOG THE  ACCUSATION PREPARATIONS  FOR 

THE  COMBAT JUSTICE  VINDICATED THE  FALSE  COMRADE  SENTENCED 

THE  FIRST  CALIFORNIA  DUEL WANT  OF  INTEREST WALKER  AND 

GRAHAM CAUSE  OF  THIS  AFTAIR GRAHAM’S  DECLARATION THE 

HALT PARTICULARS  OF  THE  FIGHT WALKER  WOUNDED DISADVAN- 
TAGE OF  A SHORT  VEST FATE  OF  GRAHAM WITH  WALKER  IN  NICA- 

RAGUA. 


A sketch  of  California,  with  no  allusion  to  California  duels,  would 
somewhat  resemble  the  play  of  Hamlet,  as  once  produced  by  the 
veteran  actor,  Sol  Smith,  in  Memphis,  with  the  character  of  Hamlet 
left  out.  The  rendezvous  of  the  most  reckless  adventurers  of  that 
day,  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  appeal  to  the  duello  became  a very 
common  and  favorite  method  of  settling  disputes  and  quarrels. 
Public  sentiment  did  not  then  frown  upon  the  appeal  to  “the  code” 
as  it  now  does,  and  it  was  looked  upon  as  the  correct  thing  to  “call 
out”  your  enemy  and  wing  him,  or  be  winged  by  him,  in  the  old 
chivalric  style. 

Formerly  a method  of  trial  of  the  justice  of  a cause,  it  was  looked 
upon  as  a knightly  duty  to  give  and  accept  the  gage  of  battle,  and 
he  who  was  so  cowardly  as  to  refuse  it,  was  looked  upon  not  only  as 
lacking  in  physical  bravery,  but  also  as  a doubter  of  the  justice  of 
Providence.  The  golden  spurs  were  hacked  from  the  heels  of  the 
recreant  knight  guilty  of  this  skepticism,  his  sword  was  broken  and 
he  was  degraded  to  the  rank  of  a common  hind. 

If  we  look  back  over  the  records  of  history,  we  find  that  not  only 
knights  and  squires,  but  also  princes,  kings  and  emperors  have 
entered  the  lists  and  done  battle  nobly  for  country  or  for  cause. 
The  page  of  the  novelist  glows  with  the  knightly  deeds  of  its  heroes, 
as  witness  the  description  given  by  Sir  Walter  Scott  of  the  duel 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


GIG 

between  the  Disinherited  Knight  and  the  gigantic  Front  De  Boeuf , in 
which  we  can  almost  hear  the  ring  of  the  steel  mace  and  lance-head 
upon  the  chain  and  plate  armor  of  the  combatants. 

The  account  of  the  duel  between  the  Templar  and  the  noble  mas- 
tiff, that  appears  in  one  of  the  tales  of  the  Crusaders — told  by  the 
“Wizard  of  the  North” — is  almost  universally  supposed  to  have  not 
even  the  slightest  foundation  in  fact,  but  to  be  only  a conceit  of  his 
fanciful  brain.  This  is  not  the  case.  It  is  founded  on  an  actual 
occurrence,  which  we  shall  give  in  brief.  It  is  as  follows: 

Macaire,  an  officer  of  the  body-guard  of  Charles  V.,  King  of 
France,  hated  most  violently  a fellow  officer,  named  Montdidier. 
Coming  upon  him  in  the  forest  of  Bondis,  near  Paris,  Macaire 
treacherously  murdered  him  and  buried  his  body  in  a ditch.  No  one 
was  present  when  the  murder  was  committed;  Montdidier  being 
accompanied  only  by  a favorite  grey-hound,  and  the  assassin  being 
entirely  alone.  According  to  all  human  calculation  here  was  a crime 
that  would  never  come  to  light,  since  its  sole  witness  was  a dumb 
brute. 

Macaire  having  effaced  all  signs  of  his  fell  deed,  returned  to  the 
court,  but  the  faithful  hound  stretched  himself  upon  his  master’s 
grave  and  gave  way  to  the  deepest  grief.  Continuing  his  lonely 
vigil  until  forced  by  famine  to  seek  for  food,  the  dog  made  his  way 
to  the  kitchen  of  a friend  of  Montdidier’ s,  and  being  abundantly 
fed,  returned  to  his  post.  This  was  frequently  repeated,  and 
Montdidier’ s absence  being  noted,  it  was  determined  to  set  a watch 
upon  his  hound,  in  order  to  try  and  discover  his  whereabouts.  This 
was  done,  and  when  the  dog  stretched  himself  upon  the  ground — 
which  plainly  showed  traces  of  having  been  disturbed — and  began 
his  piteous  howling,  the  universal  opinion  was  that  his  master  had 
been  murdered  and  buried  there. 

Montdidier’ s friend,  being  informed  of  this  fact,  ordered  a search 
to  be  made,  and  this  ended  in  the  discovery  of  the  body,  which  was 
removed  to  Paris  and  interred  in  one  of  the  cemeteries  there.  The 
dog,  after  the  removal  of  his  master’s  corpse,  attached  himself  to 
the  person  of  Montdidier’ s friend  and  was  continually  with  him. 
It  was  noticed  that  the  hound  never  met  Macaire  without  springing 
at  him  and  in  every  way  showing  its  hatred  for  him.  This  was  so 
singular  in  a dog  of  this  breed — all  of  which  are  usually  very  gentle 


CALIFORNIA  DUELS. 


617 


and  affectionate — that  it  excited  great  comment,  and  finally  the 
suspicion  arose  that  Macaire  had  murdered  his  brother  guardsman. 

This  being:  made  known  to  the  king:,  he  felt  certain  that  the  dog; 
recognized,  in  the  object  of  his  hatred,  the  murderer  of  his  master. 
So  firm  was  he  in  this  belief  that  he  ordered  Macaire  and  the  dog  to 
be  brought  before  him.  Here  the  beast,  which  with  every  one  else 
was  playful  and  gentle,  had  no  sooner  seen  the  treacherous  Macaire 
admitted,  than  he  leaped  at  him  fiercely  and  had  he  not  been 
restrained,  would  have  torn  him  in  pieces.  Believing  himself  now 
fully  justified  in  such  a course,  the  king  ordered  the  two  to  the  trial 
by  combat — the  wager  of  battle,  as  it  was  called. 

This  duel  took  place  on  the  Isle  of  Notre-Dame  in  the  presence 
of  the  entire  court.  It  was  intended  to  place  the  combatants  upon 
as  equal  terms  as  possible,  hence  the  man  was  allowed  a good,  strong 
club,  while  to  the  dog  was  allotted  a kennel,  to  which,  when  too 
severely  pushed,  he  could  retreat.  Placed  in  the  lists,  the  dog 
seemed  to  understand  what  was  expected  of  him  and  acted  as  if 
determined  to  do  his  duty  to  his  dead  master  by  exposing  his  traitor- 
ous friend. 

Every  one  supposed  that  a strong  and  active  man,  armed  with  a 
heavy  club,  would  experience  no  difficulty  in  beating  off  and  destroy- 
ing so  puny  a foe  as  a grey-hound,  but  contrary  to  all  expectation, 
when  Macaire  had  taken  his  stand  and  the  dog  had  been  loosed,  the 
latter,  evading  the  blows  of  the  club  with  a marvelous  agility,  sprang 
fiercely  at  the  throat  of  the  guardsman  and  fastened  upon  it  with  a 
grip  of  steel. 

After  frenzied  efforts  to  dislodge  the  hound,  Macaire  begged  for 
mercy,  and  when  the  dog  was  taken  from  him,  he  confessed  that  he 
had  murdered  his  friend.  A few  weeks  afterward  he  expiated  his 
guilt  at  the  hands  of  the  law  and  thus  justified  the  wisdom  of  the 
old  saw,  that  “murder  will  out.” 

But  to  return  to  California  duels  and  duelists.  The  first  occurred 
between  a young  New  Yorker — a graduate  of  the  naval  academy — 
and  a young  man  from  the  South,  in  which  some  blood  was  drawn, 
but  no  serious  wounds  given.  This  affair  grew  out  of  a sectional 
quarrel,  excited  but  little  attention — as  neither  party  was  well 
known — and  was  soon  forgotton.  The  row  between  Weller  and 
Gray — in  which  the  former  was  shot  through  the  leg — can  hardly  be 


018 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


dignified  by  the  name  of  a duel,  and  hence  we  shall  pass  it  by  with- 
out further  notice. 

The  first  duel  of  note,  which  occurred,  was  that  bet  ween  William  S. 
Walker,  “the  gray-eyed  man  of  destiny,”  and  a young  man  from 
Philadelphia,  named  Graham.  Walker,  after  a somewhat  varied 
career — which  began  at  the  quiet  little  city  of  his  nativity,  Nashville 
— had  reached  the  golden  shores  of  California  and  become  one  of 
the  editors  of  the  “San  Francisco  Herald.”  Educated  as  a physi- 
cian, but  disliking  the  practice  of  the  profession,  Walker  had 
become  connected  with  the  press  in  New  Orleans,  and  with  his  varied 
talents,  found  no  difficulty  in  obtaining  an  editorial  position  in  the 
California  metropolis. 

Some  exceedingly  severe  comments  of  his  upon  the  County  Court, 
of  which  Judge  Morrison  was  Chief,  called  forth  a response  from 
young  Graham,  who  was  a protege  of  the  Judge.  Graham’s  letter  to 
Walker  was  exceedingly  abusive  and  the  result  was  a prompt  chal- 
lenge from  the  incipient  filibuster.  Graham,  under  “the  code,” 
had  the  choice  of  weapons,  and  named  revolvers.  Eight  paces  was 
the  distance  designated  and  it  was  agreed  that,  after  the  first  fire  at 
the  word,  they  could  advance  upon  each  other  and  keep  up  their 
fusilade  until  one  or  both  were  hors  du  combat. 

The  sanguinary  terms  of  the  proposed  meeting  and  the  celebrity 
of  the  combatants  made  this  affair  the  town  talk  and  a great  excite- 
ment was  created.  It  was  a well-known  fact  that  Walker  would 
fight,  but  Graham’s  nerve  had  never  been  tested,  and  no  one  knew 
how  he  would  act.  All  sorts  of  bets  were  made  as  to  the  outcome 
of  the  affair,  and  even  the  street  gamins  and  “gutter  snipe”  wagered 
small  stakes  on  the  result.  From  the  blood-thirsty  nature  of  Gra- 
ham’s terms,  some  argued  favorably  for  his  skill  and  conduct;  while 
others  considered  it  as  a “bluff,”  intended  to  frighten  his  opponent. 

Walker’s  second  was  an  officer  of  the  regular  army,  named  Fol- 
som, and  the  second  pf  Graham  was  also  a military  man.  On  the 
way  to  the  place  of  meeting,  Graham  told  his  secopd  that  he  was  a 
dead  shot,  and  that  he  intended  to  kill  Walker  at  the  first  fire.  His 
second,  a man  of  the  strictest  honor,  looked  on  this  declaration  as 
but  little  short  of  an  announcement  that  his  principal  intended  to  com- 
mit murder,  and  he  straightway  stopped  the  carriage,  and  told  Gra- 
ham that  if  he  were  the  dead  shot  he  claimed  to  be,  it  would  be  a 
foul  murder  to  carry  out  his  expressed  intention,  and  further,  that 


CALIFORNIA  DUELS. 


619 


if  he  did  not  agree  merely  to  wing  his  man,  he  would  immediately 
find  himself  under  the  necessity  of  choosing  another  second. 

After  considerable  talk,  this  was  agreed  to,  and  the  ride  to  the 
field  was  resumed.  The  duel  was  to  take  place  at  nine  o’clock  in 


the  morning,  and  when  Graham  reached  the  spot,  he  found  Walker 
already  there.  The  day  was  Sunday  and  a crowd  of  at  least  five 
thousand  people  had  collected ; amongst  whom  were  all  of  the  prin- 
cipal citizens  of  San  Francisco.  Graham’s  second  won  in  the  toss 


620 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


for  position,  and  when  the  men  were  placed  at  their  posts, the  usual 
formula  was  gone  through  with.  “Gentlemen,  are  you  ready  ? Fire ; 
one — two — three,  halt !” 

The  men  had  been  placed  back  to  back,  and  at  the  word,  both 
wheeled  and  fired.  Neither  was  touched  and  a second  shot  from 
each  resulted  similarly.  Calling  a halt,  the  seconds  endeavored  to 
adjust  matters,  but  without  success;  Walker  saying  that  he  came 
there  to  kill  or  be  killed.  Again  the  men  were  placed  in  position 
and  the  word  given.  Both  pistols  rang  out  on  the  air,  and  Walker 
was  seen  to  stagger,  whirl  half-way  round  and  fall  into  the  arms  of 
his  second. 

Graham  on  this  occasion  was  dressed  entirely  in  black,  no  sign  of 
any  other  color  showing;  while  Walker  wore  a blue,  swallow-tail 
coat,  buff  vest  and  black  breeches.  Beneath  the  edge  of  his  vest, 
which  after  the  fashion  of  that  day,  was  cut  very  short,  a slight  band 
of  white  was  visible  and  it  was  at  this  that  Graham  had  aimed  when 
he  dropped  his  man. 

When  Walker’s  vest  and  shirt  had  been  torn  open,  the  wound 
where  the  ball  had  entered  and  that  from  which  it  had  made  its  exit, 
were  plainly  visible,  and  it  was  supposed  that  he  had  been  shot 
squarely  through  the  abdomen.  A careful  investigation — by  a sur- 
geon— showed,  however,  that  the  ball  had,  from  some  cause,  entered, 
buried  itself  beneath  the  skin  and  glanced  around  the  body,  coming 
out  at  the  back,  just  opposite  to  its  point  of  entrance.  It  had  not 
penetrated  the  abdominal  cavity.  At  this  lucky  but  narrow  escape 
of  Walker,  his  friends  were  immensely  delighted. 

After  this  meeting,  the  two  men  became  firm  friends  and  when 
Walker  prepared  to  carry  out  his  alluring  dream  of  conquest  and 
empire,  Graham  accompanied  him  to  Nicaragua  and  fell  in  one  of 
the  desperate  combats  of  the  filibusters  against  their  mongrel 
enemies. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


JUDGE  TERRY,  BRODERICK,  AND  OTHERS. 


WOODLIEF  AND  KEWEN A FIGHT  WITH  RIFLES CONTRA  COSTA THE 

BETTING TWENTY  THOUSAND  SPECTATORS RUMORS  ON  THE  FIELD 

AN  INTERFERENCE WOODLIEF*S  WIFE THE  FIGHT  PROCEEDS 

QUICK  SHOTS GAME  MEN  DEATH  OF  WOODLIEF KEWEN  NOT 

TOUCHED  KILLED  IN  NICARAGUA NUMEROUS  OTHER  DUELS 

TERRY  AND  BRODERICK CAUSE  OF  THE  DUEL MAUDLIN  SYM- 
PATHY  MISREPRESENTATIONS APOLOGY  TENDERED A SHOULDER- 

HITTER HIS  FEAR  OF  DEATH TOO  LATE  TO  APOLOGIZE OFFERS 

OF  SETTLEMENT FALSE  FRIENDS THE  FIGHT BRODERICK  FALLS 

DR.  GWIN IN  CONGRESS A WONDERFUL  CAREER GOES  TO 

CALIFORNIA POLITICAL  PREDICTION A PROPHECY  VERIFIED 

ELECTED  UNITED  STATES  SENATOR ON  FORTUNE’S  FLOOD RE-ELEC- 
TED  COURSE  DURING  THE  CIVIL  WAR DUKE  OF  SONORA LAST 

DAYS  OF  GWIN. 


Another  noted  duel  was  that  between  Colonel  Woodlief  and  Achil- 
les Kewen,  of  St.  Louis.  Woodlief  was  from  Texas  and  was  a 
gambler  of  great  notoriety.  Kewen  was  an  unknown  man,  who  had 
lately  arrived  in  California.  The  quarrel,  which  led  to  the  chal- 
lenge, occurred  when  both  men  had  been  drinking,  and  the  insults 
that  passed  drew  forth  a challenge  from  Woodlief.  Mutual  friends 
endeavored  to  settle  the  difficulty,  but  Woodlief  refused  to  accept 
the  apology  which  Kewen — who  was  in  the  wrong — offered  to  make. 
Woodlief  had  been  with  the  American  army  in  Mexico  and  was 
known  to  be  dead  game;  while  it  was  a freely  expressed  opinion 
that  Kewen  would  show  the  white  feather.  Contrary  to  these 
prophecies,  the  challenge  was  promptly  accepted,  and  rifles,  at  sev- 
enty yards,  named  as  the  weapons  and  distance. 

The  fight  was  to  take  place  at  Contra  Costa,  across  the  bay,  and 
the  affair  was  made  the  occasion  of  as  grand  a turn-out  as  ever 
thronged  to  witness  a bull  fight  or  a bear  baiting.  All  of  the 
steamers,  resplendent  with  flags  and  streamers,  and  equipped  with 
brass  bands  discoursing  lively  music,  ran  on  regular  excursions  to 
the  ground  selected,  and  it  is  calculated  that  there  were  at  least 
twenty  thousand  spectators  present  when  the  fight  occurred.  The 

621 


622 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


sheriff  of  the  county  and  his  posse  came  to  put  a stop  to  the  hostile 
meeting,  but  the  crowd  mildly,  yet  firmly,  told  them  that  the  fight 
must  go  on  and  they  remained,  as  interested  spectators  as  any  of  the 
others. 

The  betting  was  two  to  one  in  favor  of  Woodlief,  and  so  certain 
was  Woodlief  himself,  of  victory,  that  he  brought  his  wife  with  him 
in  the  carriage  that  conveyed  him  to  the  meeting.  It  was  whis- 
pered around  amongst  the  crowd  that  the  St.  Louisan  had  backed 
out  and  a hundred  rumors  began  to  gain  circulation.  Some  said 
that  he  had  fainted  and  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  bring  him  to 
the  scratch.  Others  alleged  that  his  seconds,  in  trying  to  stimulate 
him  to  a show  of  courage,  had  dosed  him  so  heavily  with  whisky 
that  he  was  now  dead  drunk.  Some  did  not  hesitate  to  say  that  he 
had  fled  in  terror  from  the  field,  and  that  it  was  this  fact  that  occa- 
sioned the  inevitable  delay,  incident  to  the  settling  of  the  prelim- 
inaries. 

In  due  time,  however,  both  men  appeared  and  took  their  posi- 
tions; Kewen  having  remained  quietly  in  his  carriage  until  this  time, 
while  Woodlief  had  shown  himself  in  various  portions  of  the  field. 
Those  who  had  prophesied  defeat  for  Kewen  saw,  in  his  cool,  col- 
lected demeanor,  that  if  he  died  he  would  at  least  die  game,  and 
some  of  the  gamblers  began  to  hedge  their  bets. 

Facing  his  opponent  unflinchingly,  Kewen  looked  him  square  in 
the  eye,  and  at  the  word  a simultaneous  report  from  the  two  rifles 
was  heard.  The  bullet  of  the  Texan  cut  a lock  of  hair  from 
Kewen’ s head,  but  at  the  same  moment  Woodlief  fell  dead,  with  a 
bullet  through  his  heart.  Again  the  wise  ones  had  been  disap- 
pointed and  their  prophecies  had  come  to  naught.  Kewen’ s fate 
was  similar  to  that  of  Graham.  Attracted  by  the  personal  magnet- 
ism of  Walker,  he  attached  himself  to  the  fortunes  of  the  fillibuster 
and  perished  in  one  of  the  many  battles  fought  by  that  hero  in 
Nicaragua. 

After  this,  dueling  became  so  common  that  the  report  of  one 
would  attract  no  more  attention  than  the  announcement  of  a cock- 
ing main  or  a dog  fight,  until  at  last  the  most  famous  of  all  Cali- 
fornia “affairs  of  honor”  occurred.  This  was  the  duel  between 
Judge  David  S.  Terry  and  Senator  David  C.  Broderick.  Perhaps 
no  similar  affair — not  even  excepting  the  world-famous  duel  between 


JUDGE  TERRY,  BRODERICK  AND  OTHERS. 


623 


Aaron  Burr  and  Alexander  Hamilton— ^has  been  the  occasion  for 
such  an  overflow  of  maudlin  sympathy  and  such  utter  bosh  as  the 
killing  of  Broderick  by  Judge  Terry. 

It  has  become  the  fashion  to  give  to  Broderick  the  most  fulsome 
praise  and  to  Terry  the  most  unlimited  blame,  neither  of  which  is 
deserved.  Broderick,  a child  of  the  gutter  and  an  associate  of 
thugs  and  bullies  in  New  York,  was  imported  to  California  as  a 


WIDOW  OF  COLONEL  WOODLIEF. 

fighting  man , to  oppose  the  political  party  then  in  power  in  that 
State.  In  the  course  of  a debate  on  a political  subject,  he  gave 
way  to  his  bullying  propensities  and  shamefully  abused  Judge  Terry, 
during  the  absence  of  the  latter.  Being  told  that  Terry  would  cer- 
tainly demand  satisfaction,  he  is  alleged  to  have  said,  that  that  would 
suit  him;  that  he  came  to  the  State  to  fight,  and  that  he  intended  to 
Jo  so# 


624 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


As  he  had  been  warned,  Terry  sent  him  a challenge  and  now, 
when  it  was  too  late,  Broderick  realized  that  he  had  made  a fatal 
mistake.  He  offered  to  make  an  apology  and  attempted  to  speak 
to  Judge  Terry  at  a hotel  table,  in  order  to  have  the  challenge  with- 
drawn, but  was  told  that  the  matter — as  was  usual  in  such  cases — 
was  then  in  the  hands  of  the  seconds  and  must  be  left  with  them 
for  settlement. 

One  chance  was  given  Broderick  to  escape  the  duel ; it  was  to  make 
a public  recantation  and  apology,  or  publish  a letter  of  apology  in 
the  San  Francisco  papers.  This,  even  if  willing  himself,  his  politi- 
cal friends  would  not  allow  him  to  do,  and  these  friends,  who  had 
incited  him  to  make  this  false  accusation  and  who  prevented  a 
public  apology,  are  responsible  for  Broderick’s  fate,  and  not 
Terry,  who  acted  only  as  every  gentleman  and  man  of  courage  of 
that  day  would  have  acted. 

As  a fistic  combatant  in  the  brutal  rough-and-tumble  fights  in  metro- 
politan slums,  Broderick  may  have  been  a brave  man,  but  when  it 
came  to  facing  probable  death  in  a single-handed  encounter  with 
weapons,  his  nerve  weakened  and  he  fell  dead  beneath  the  unerring 
aim  of  Terry,  the  victim  of  selfish  friends  and  the  righteous  wrath 
of  a slandered  and  justly  exasperated  man. 

But  one  of  California’s  politicians  of  note,  of  the  pioneer  days  of 
the  State,  escaped  being  in  some  manner  embroiled  in  these  so-called 
“affairs  of  honor.”  It  is  believed  that  Dr.  William  M.  K.  Gwin 
escaped  all  participation  in  such  affrays.  So  remarkable  was  the 
career  of  this  man,  that  a brief  sketch  will  be  here  given:  Gwin 
was  born  in  Sumner  County,  Tennessee,  on  the  9th  day  of  October, 
1805.  Removing  from  his  native  State  to  Mississippi,  after  reach- 
ing his  majority,  he  engaged  actively  in  politics  and  was  elected  to 
the  House  of  Representatives.  Serving  one  term,  his  restless  spirit 
induced  him  to  remove  to  New  Orleans,  and  about  this  time  came 
the  conquest  of  California. 

He  at  once  determined  to  locate  in  this  Eldorado  and  crossing  the 
Isthmus  of  Panama,  he  reached  the  Golden  State  in  1848.  It  is  said 
that  at  this  time  Gwin  was  so  reduced  in  circumstances  that  he  was 
obliged  to  beg  his  way  to  San  Francisco,  and  was  given  a passage 
on  a government  transport,  by  the  generous  army  officer  in  charge. 

On  the  voyage  the  impecunious,  but  daring  and  adventurous  doc- 
tor made  no  secret  of  his  intention  in  seeking  his  new  residence.  It 


JUDGE  TERRY,  BRODERICK  AND  OTHERS. 


625 


was  to  aid  in  fashioning  the  destinies  of  the  New  State,  and  he  solici- 
ted and  obtained  the  promise  of  assistance  in  his  schemes,  from  all 
of  the  passengers  of  any  note.  This  they  readily  pledged,  as  none  of 
them  had  the  slightest  idea  of  ever  being  called  on  to  fulfill  the 
promise. 

The  career  of  Gwin,  on  “the  Slope,”  shows  what  a man  of  talent 
and  determination  can  do.  With  popular  manners  and  a smooth  flow 
of  eloquence,  he  so  won  upon  those  with  whom  he  came  in  contact, 
that  in  1850,  he  was  elected  United  States  Senator.  He  had  taken 
Fortune  at  her  flood  and  his  after  career  was  brilliant  and  success- 


THE  DUKE  OF  SONORA. 


ful.  In  1861  he  was  again  elected  to  the  Senate  of  the  United  States. 
Sympathizing  with  his  section  during  the  civil  war,  he  was  a warm 
secessionist.  Our  space  forbids  a longer  sketch  of  his  adventures 
and  it  only  remains  to  mention  that  Gwin  was  one  of  the  few  Ameri- 
cans who  ever  gained  a title.  He  was,  during  the  French  invasion  of 
Mexico,  appointed  by  the  Emperor  Maximilian,  as  Duke  of  Sonora. 
The  overthrow  and  death  of  the  gallant  Austrian,  annulled  the  title 
and  its  precarious  honor  and  emoluments  and  the  last  days  of  Gwin 
were  passed  in  California. 


62G 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


A SOLE  PAST  SAVING — THE  PIONEER  COBBLER  AND  HIS  CUSTOMER. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


COLONEL  JOHN  COFFEE  HAYS. 


THE  TEXAN  RANGER BIRTH  AND  DISPOSITION SERVICES  IN  TEXAS HIS 

POPULARITY IN  MEXICO AT  MONTEREY COMPLIMENT  TO  HAYS 

ANECDOTE  OF  THE  TEXAS  TROOPS  IN  MEXICO THEIR  BRAVERY THEIR 

BILLET  IN  THE  CITY THE  LEPERO  QUARTER ASSASSINATION A BOY 

HERO  THE  MEXICAN  DESPERADO HIS  ASSAULT DEATH THE 

LEPEROS  SUBDUED HAYS  GOES  TO  CALIFORNIA “THE  PEOPLE’S  PARTY” 

ELECTED  SHERIFF A VALUABLE  MAN INCIDENT  AT  THE  POLLS 

SPLENDID  HORSEMANSHIP  HAYS’  CHARACTER  ANECDOTE THE 

NEGRO  DESPERADOES THEIR  THREATS HAYS  SENT  FOR DOES  HIS 

DUTY COWED  BRAVOS DEFIES  THE  VIGILANTES UNPARALELLED 

BRAVERY AN  INDIAN  WAR WHITES  DEFEATED HAYS  TO  THE  RESCUE 

FOUNDS  OAKLAND A TEXAN  INCIDENT SURROUNDED  BY  INDIANS 

DEFEATS  THEM THE  COWARDLY  VOLUNTEER HAYS’  ADVICE 

HAYS  IN  BATTLE STORMING  OF  THE  BISHOP’S  PALACE DEATH  OF  HAYS 

REMINISCENCES . 


This  gallant  hero,  better  known  as  “ the  Texan  Ranger,”  Jack 
Hays,  and  “Colonel  Jack,”  was  born  in  Wilson  county,  Tennessee, 
in  the  year  1817.  Being  of  a brave,  adventurous  disposition,  he 
left  home,  at  the  age  of  seventeen  or  eighteen,  and  went  to  Texas, 
at  that  time  the  goal  for  all  of  the  restless  and  heroic  spirits.  When 
he  arrived  in  the  Lone  Star  State,  he  immediately  sought  service 
under  General  Houston,  then  in  command  of  the  Texan  army.  Here 
by  his  coolness  and  courage  he  soon  rose  to  the  command  of  a regi- 
ment. He  was  a small  man  but  of  great  strength  and  activity,  and 
with  the  courage  of  a lion. 

So  gallant  were  his  exploits  while  Texas  was  fighting  for  her  lib- 
erty that,  when  she  became  independent,  he  was  given  command 
first  of  her  volunteer  and  then  of  her  regular  army,  both  of  which 
positions  he  filled  with  the  greatest  judgment.  It  was  thus  that  he 
earned  his  title  of  “Texan  Ranger.”  When  the  war  between  the 
United  States  and  Mexico  began,  Colonel  Hays  was  placed  by  his 
State  in  command  of  the  corps  of  Texan  troops  serving  against  their 
old  enemies,  the  Mexicans.  Throughout  the  entire  war  he  served  with 
distinguished  gallantry. 


627 


628 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


At  Monterey,  where  they  fought  under  the  eye  of  General  Tay- 
lor, the  Texas  troops  bore  the  brunt  of  the  battle  and  every  man  of 
them  fought  like  tigers.  Hays  added  fresh  laurels  to  those  he  had 
won  on  other  fields  and  when  Santa  Anna  surrendered  to  General 
Winfield  Scott,  he  was,  as  a compliment  to  Hays’  noble  conduct, 
placed  in  his  charge.  To  mention  his  gallant  actions,  either  in  this 
war  or  that  of  Texas  when  struggling  to  throw  off  the  yoke  of 
Mexican  tyranny  would  be  to  recount  a list  of  battles  which  fill  the 
history  of  our  country,  and  which  would  occupy  more  space  than 
can  be  given  to  a biographical  sketch  of  one  of  the  many  actors  in 
these  important  dramas. 

It  may  be  well  to  show  the  style  of  the  Texan  troops  who  fought 
in  both  of  these  wars  and  whom  Hays  found  no  difficulty  in  keep- 
ing in  proper  subjection  by  no  harsher  means  than  the  respect  they 
had  for  his  gallantry  and  his  kindness.  In  speaking  of  these  men, 
an  old  army  officer  said  that  they  were  of  all  ages  and  sizes.  Some 
were  beardless  boys  of  sixteen,  many  even  younger;  some  were 
grizzled  veterans  of  sixty,  but  all  of  them  were  warriors  tried  and 
true.  When  they  came  from  Yera  Cruz  to  the  City  of  Mexico,  they 
had  seen  hard  service  scouting  for  the  army  and  fighting  the  gaud- 
ily uniformed  lancers  of  the  enemy,  whom  they  invariably  put  to 
flight  in  every  encounter. 

They  were  ragged  and  dirty,  their  horses  were  gaunt  and  sore, 
and  many  of  them  so  lame  that  they  limped  painfully  along  on  three 
legs.  Jack  Falstaff’s  recruits  would  have  made  a creditable  figure 
beside  them,  but  every  man  in  that  tattered  corps  was  worthy  to 
combat  for  thrones  or  empires.  Reporting  to  the  officer  who  had 
the  billeting  of  the  troops,  Hays  was  told  that  they  had  just  the 
place  for  him. 

It  seems  that  a certain  quarter  of  the  city  was  inhabited  chiefly 
by  low  desperados,  called  “ leperos ,”  and  these  scoundrels  had 
already  assassinated  several  of  the  American  troops,  who  had,  under 
the  influence  of  the  fiery  native  pulque,  or  aquardiente,  wandered 
too  far  abroad  at  night.  In  the  morning  they  would  be  found  stark 
and  stiff,  with  a terrible  gash  across  the  throat,  or  stabbed  to  the 
heart. 

On  the  entrace  of  the  Texans  into  the  city,  the  billeting  officer 
had  seen  a little  incident  that  convinced  him  he  had  found  the  right 
men  to  adjust  this  trouble.  As  the  Rangers  entered  the  city  they 


COLONEL  JOHN  COFFEE  HAYS. 


629 


passed  slowly  along,  their  broken  down  steeds  unable  to  assume  an 
air  of  gayety  even  for  a moment  and  moving  along  as  if  to  a solemn, 
dead  march.  In  the  rear,  several  yards  behind  the  hindmost,  came 
one  of  the  rangers,  a mere  boy,  his  horse  lamer  than  any  of  the 
others,  and  unable  to  keep  up. 

With  one  leg  crossed  over  the  pummel  of  his  saddle,  he  rode  non- 
chalantly along,  as  if  the  capture  of  such  a city  was  an  every-day  mat- 
ter to  him  and  not  calculated  to  stir  up  a single  emotion.  As  his 
horse  hobbled  slowly  onward,  one  of  the  “ leperos ” passed  with  a 
basket  of  oranges  on  his  head.  Reaching  over, the  boy  helped  him- 
self and  laughed  at  the  idea  of  the  fellow  demanding  pay.  The 
ccirambas  and  carajos  of  the  desperado  became  fiercer  and  fiercer, 
but  the  boy  continued  to  eat  and  laugh.  At  last  worked  up  to  a 
perfect  fury,  the  “ lepero ” stooped  down,  gathered  a large  rock 
and  hurled  it  at  the  head  of  the  Texan. 

A fierce  light  now  shone  in  the  eyes  of  the  latter,  but  quickly 
dodging  the  rock,  he  reached  over,  drew  a pistol  from  his  holster 
and  with  a quick  aim,  and  without  moving  his  leg  from  across  his 
saddle,  shot  the  Mexican  through  the  head.  Coolly  replacing  his 
pistol  in  its  holster,  the  boy  began  eating  his  orange  as  if  nothing  had 
happened,  never  bestowing  a second  glance  upon  the  dead  desperado 
or  the  affrighted  crowd. 

The  billeting  officer  assigned  them  to  the  lepero  quarter  and  after 
a dozen  or  so  of  these  latter  had  been  killed,  there  was  no  further 
trouble,  and  that  became  as  safe  as  any  other  quarter  of  the  city. 

In  1849,  Hays,  amongst  other  adventurous  spirits,  attracted  by 
the  golden  reports  of  California  treasure,  crossed  the  plains  to  that 
State.  Here  his  reputation  had  preceded  him  and  he  was  warmly 
welcomed  by  the  Americans  who  had  already  reached  the  Eldorado. 
The  People’s  Party,  in  San  Francisco,  saw  in  the  gallant  young 
ranger  the  qualities  which  might  enable  them  to  cope  successfully 
with  the  thugs  and  thieves,  who  from  every  part  of  the  world  had 
flocked  to  California  to  gather  the  golden  harvest  that  industry 
might  reap.  Here  was  a man  who  to  their  knavery  would  oppose  a 
sterling  integrity,  and  to  their  desperation  a hero’s  courage. 

At  the  polls,  owing  to  lies  and  money  of  unscrupulous  parties, 
Hays’  friends  found  that  he  was  beginning  to  lose  votes.  One  of 
them  thought  of  an  expedient  that  might  stem  the  current  going  so 


HAYS  AND  HOUSTON  DISCUSSING  THE  PLAN  OP  THE  SAN  ANTONIO  CAMPAIGN 


COLONEL  JOHN  COFFEE  HAYS. 


631 

heavily  against  their  candidate,  and  bringing  out  a fierce  black  stal- 
lion, they  mounted  Hays  upon  it  and  sent  him  careering  about  the 
city  from  one  precinct  to  another.  The  bravery,  dash  and  gallant 
horsemanship  of  the  ranger  recalled  his  many  services  to  his 
country,  and  the  tide  turning,  he  went  into  office  on  the  very 
crest  of  the  wave  of  popular  admiration.  All  felt  that  a hero  was 
before  them  and  breaking  the  bands  of  party  servitude,  Hays  was 
elected  by  a large  majority. 

Of  mild  manners  and  social  qualities,  he  made  almost  every  onf, 
with  whom  he  came  in  contact,  his  personal  friend.  Unaggressive 
and  modest  on  all  occasions,  when  duty  called  on  him  for  action  he 
knew  no  fear,  and  regardless  of  numbers  or  circumstances  always 
carried  his  point.  In  1850  a negro  slave  had  been  abducted  from 
his  master  by  some  desperate  negroes  who  held  him,  strongly 
guarded,  in  a house  in  Sacramento. 

His  master  discovered  his  whereabouts  and  appealed  to  the  officers 
to  carry  out  the  law.  Several  essayed  to  do  so,  but  all  were  driven 
off  by  the  determined  and  thoroughly  desperate  negroes.  Finally 
it  occurred  to  some  one  that  Hays  could  and  would  take  the  man. 
He  was  accordingly  detailed  to  arrest  the  fugitive  and  refusing  all 
offers  of  a posse,  went  single-handed  and  alone  to  the  guarded 
house. 

The  negroes  had  sworn  that  they  would  kill  every  man  that 
approached,  whether  it  was  one  or  twenty,  and  when  Hays  came 
they  warned  him  to  keep  off.  To  most  men  the  determined  port 
of  the  negroes  and  the  guns  looking  ominously  through  the  shutters, 
would  have  been  sufficient  to  deter  them.  Not  so  with  Hays. 

His  duty  called  upon  him  to  enter  and  enter  he  would,  or  at  least 
make  the  attempt,  if  every  desperado  in  California  had  been 
entrenched  there.  When  the  negroes  warned  him  off,  he  did  not 
answer  by  word  or  motion  and  without  quickening  his  gait,  he 
firmly  marched  through  the  yard  into  the  door  and  from  the  very 
midst  of  the  raving  and  blustering  negroes  took  away  his  man. 

Had  his  courage,  when  he  came  to  California,  needed  any  proof, 
a single  deed  there  would  most  firmly  have  established  it.  While 
Sheriff  of  San  Francisco,  the  omnipotent  vigilance  committee — the 
same  which  held  in  durance  for  seven  weeks  Judge  Terry  for 
defending  himself  against  an  unwarranted  attack — held  at  its  head- 
quarters on  Battery  street,  two  men  who  had  by  it  been  accused  of 


I 


632  CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

murder  and  sentenced  to  be  hung.  Hays  determined  to  make  the 
banded  mob  respect  the  law  and  marching  to  the  rooms,  took  from 
thence  the  two  men,  Whittaker  and  McKenzie,  and  carried  them  to 
the  city  jail. 

The  cowards,  who  feared  Hays  as  a flock  of  sheep  would  a lion, 
submitted  amongst  much  bluster  and  threatening,  and  the  next  day 
with  five  hundred  men,  went  to  the  jail  during  Hays’  absence  and 
recaptured  the  men.  Fearing  that,  upon  his  return,  the  plucky  little 
hero  would  again  cheat  them  of  their  prey,  they  made  all  haste  to 
string  up  their  victims.  No  greater  compliment  could  be  paid  to 
the  courage  and  prowess  of  a single  man  than  this  incident  shows. 

During  the  rising  of  the  hostile  Indians,  in  1860,  when  the  tribes 
had  closely  beleaguered  Virginia  City  and  held  its  inhabitants  in  a 
state  of  siege,  an  expedition  went  up  from  Sacramento  to  succor 
them.  Major  Ormsby  was  in  command  of  the  volunteers  and  made 
a gallant  attempt  to  relieve  the  imperilled  citizens,  but  was  repulsed 
with  the  slaughter  of  sixty-four  of  his  best  men,  and  in  the  rout  that 
followed,  the  rest  of  the  expedition  made  their  way  back  as  rapidly 
as  possible.  The  fact  could  not  be  disguised  that  they  had  met  with 
a terrible  disaster. 

In  their  distress  the  Californians  called  for  the  man  who  had  never 
failed  them  in  their  hour  of  need  and  in  command  of  another  party 
of  volunteers,  Colonel  Hays  attacked  the  Indians  and  gave  them  a 
terrible  drubbing,  scattering  them  through  the  mountains  and  so 
breaking  their  spirits  that  they  never  again  attempted  hostilities. 
This  was  known  as  the  “Washoe  War.”  Unlike  Ormsby,  Hays 
had  showed  cool  judgment  as  well  as  indomitable  courage  and  by 
superior  generalship,  had  overcome  a force  of  savages  five  times 
greater  in  numerical  superiority. 

In  1852  Colonel  Hays,  in  connection  with  Caperton  and  others, 
purchased  the  site  upon  which  Oakland  now  stands.  In  his  real 
estate  speculations  he  was  very  lucky,  and  the  city  of  Oakland 
stands  a monument  to  the  correctness  of  his  judgment  in  locating 
that  town.  In  1853  he  was  appointed  by  President  Pierce  Surveyor- 
General  of  California  and  filled  the  office  to  the  satisfaction  of  all. 

Once,  during  his  residence  in  Texas,  while  out  in  the  interior  of 
the  State,  he  was  surrounded  by  the  hostile  Comanches.  Hays  was 
entirely  alone  and  the  Indians,  certain  of  their  victim,  came  rapidly 
toward  him.  Looking  hurriedly  around,  Hays  saw  a crevice  in 


colonel  John  coffee  haFs. 


63.0 


some  rocks  near  at  hand  and  lost  no  time  in  inserting  his  body  into 
it.  In  order  to  reach  him,  the  Commanches  were  obliged  to  come 
squarely  up  to  him  and  this  they  bravely  attempted  to  do. 

Two  of  them  bit  the  dust  at  the  first  charge  and  the  rest  retired. 

O 

This  gave  Hays  a chance  to  reload  his  rifle  and  the  pistol  he  had 
fired  and  when  the  Indians  again  returned  to  the  charge  he  killed 
two  more  of  them.  Finding  the  task  not  so  easy  as  they  had  antici- 
pated, and  not  caring  to  lose  any  more  men  for  the  sake  of  a single 
scalp,  they  withdrew.  Had  they  but  known  it,  Hays  had  left  only 
the  single  charge  remaining  in  his  second  pistol ; all  of  his  powder 
having  escaped  from  his  flask. 

During  his  battling  for  the  freedom  of  Texas,  a young  man  joined 
his  command  and  in  the  heat  of  action,  displayed  the  greatest  fear. 
Not  wishing  to  see  the  young  fellow  exposed  to  such  torture  as 
Hays  knew  he  must  endure,  he  dismissed  him  to  the  rear  on  some 
errand  that  would  keep  him  there  during  the  remainder  of  the  fight 
and  after  it  was  over,  not  caring  to  expose  him  to  the  ridicule  of  his 
comrades,  he  kindly  took  him  to  one  side  and  told  him  that,  unfor- 
tunately constituted  as  he  was,  his  home  was  the  best  place  for  him 
and  advised  him  never  to  return  to  the  army  and  to  cross  his  stock, 
if  he  ever  married,  with  such  noble  blood  as  that  of  the  Bowies, 
that  his  descendants  might  be  more  manly. 

In  the  action  at  Monterey,  Worth’s  division  of  the  American  army 
was  advancing  upon  the  town,  Hays’  command  having  been  deployed 
as  skirmishers.  Colonel  Duncan  had  masked  his  battery  behind  a 
dense  chapparal,  which,  while  it  perfectly  concealed  the  artillery, 
would  not  in  the  slightest  affect  its  efficiency,  even  if  it  became 
necessary  to  fire  through  it  upon  the  advancing  Mexican  cavalry, 
which  was  bearing  down  in  superior  force.  As  they  came  thunder- 
ing on,  Duncan  who  had  charged  his  pieces  heavily  with  grape  and  can- 
nister,  motioned  for  Hays’  men  to  dismount  and  lie  down.  This 
they  did  and  when  the  lancers  were  in  point  blank  range,  the 
artillery  was  turned  loose  and  created  terrible  slaughter  in  the  Mexi- 
can ranks. 

Hays’  men  now  quickly  mounted  and  completed  the  route,  repel- 
ling also  the  infantry  hastening  to  the  support  of  the  lancers.  At  the 
storming  of  the  Bishop’s  Palace  in  the  city  proper,  on  the  morning 
of  the  21st  day  of  September,  1846,  Hays  and  his  Texans  crawled 
on  their  hands  and  knees  silently  through  a corn  field  and  captured 


634 


CONQUERING  tfHE  WILDERNESS. 


the  outposts  of  the  enemy.  This  occurred  before  daylight,  and  sO 
quickly  and  efficiently  was  it  performed  that  not  the  slightest  alarm 
was  given  and  this  greatly  facilitated  the  capture,  by  storm,  of  the 
enemy’s  chief  position. 

In  April,  1883,  John  Coffee  Hays  passed  peacefully  away  at  his 
home  in  the  foothills  of  Alameda  County,  California.  The  latter 
years  of  his  life  had  been  devoted  chiefly  to  the  management  of  his 
large  properties,  though  the  writer  met  him  in  St.  Louis  at  the  con- 
vention which  nominated  Tilden  as  candidate  for  President  of  the 
United  States. 

Those  who  knew  him  best  respected  him  most  highly,  and  it  is  safe 
to  say  that,  except  amongst  the  criminal  classes,  Jack  Hays  did  not 
have  an  enemy  in  the  State.  He  was  determined  and  fearlessly 
brave,  but  everyone  speaks  of  him  as  one  of  the  most  amiable, 
social  and  hospitable  of  men. 

Everywhere  his  word  was  as  good  as  his  bond.  He  was  the  soul 
of  honor,  the  tongue  of  truth.  Owing  his  life  on  frequent  occasions 
solely  to  his  almost  superhuman  nerve  and  courage,  there  was  noth- 
ing of  the  braggart  about  him.  Using  neither  whisky,  profanity,  or 
tobacco,  he  was  as  modest  in  mien  and  as  quiet  in  conversation  as  a 
girl,  but  no  more  heroic  soul  ever  inhabited  a human  body  than  that 
of  4 ‘the  Texan  Ranger,”  whose  deeds  are  interwoven  with  the  his- 
tory of  Texas  and  California  and  form  a large  part  of  the  annals 
of  the  two  States. 


CHAPTER  XIII 


KIT  CARSON. 


BORN  IN  KENTUCKY REMOVES  TO  MISSOURI APPRENTICED  TO  A SADDLER 

CROSSES  THE  PLAINS ACTS  AS  SURGEON COOL  NERVE RETURNS 

HOME IN  NEW  MEXICO GOES  TO  CHIHUAHUA  AS  INTERPRETER 

SERVES  AS  TEAMSTER JOINS  EWING  YOUNG’S  PARTY  OF  TRAPPERS 

INDIAN  FIGHT ENTERS  CALIFORNIA — -TRAPPING AIDS  THE  PADRES 

INDIAN  SLAVES CARSON  DEFEATS  INDIANS MOUNTAIN  HORSE- 

THIEVES CARSON  ATTACKS  AND  ROUTS  THEM STOCK  RECOVERED 

THE  RETURN  TO  NEW  MEXICO DRINKING  AND  QUARRELING IN  CAMP 

ON  THE  GILA IN  DANGER CARSON'S  CONDUCT DISPERSES  ROBBERS 

ANOTHER  INDIAN  FIGHT CACHE  THEIR  FURS GO  TO  SANTA  FE 

MEXICAN  OFFICIALS  OUTWITTED CARSON'S  SPREE SWEARS  OFF 

WITH  FITZPATRICK ROBBED  BY  THE  CROWS INDIANS  FORTIFIED 

ATTACKED  BY  TRAPPERS HORSES  RETAKEN BRAVERY  OF  A FRIENDLY 

INDIAN THIEVISH  TRAPPERS PURSUED DISAPPEAR CARSON  A 

“FREE  TRAPPER”- GREAT  SUCCESS WITH  CAPTAIN  LEE ON  GREEN 

RIVER- -HORSES  STOLEN PURSUIT  OF  THTEF OVERTAKEN  AND  KILLED 

BY  CARSON THE  GRIZZLY  BEAR BRIDGER’S  CAMP IN  THE  BLACK- 

FOOT  COUNTRY DESPERATE  BATTLE CARSON  DANGEROUSLY  WOUNDED 

THE  REVEREND  SAMUEL  PARKER THE  FRENCH  BULLY HIS  CHAL- 
LENGE  ACCEPTED  BY  CARSON THE  DUEL CARSON  TRIUMPHANT 

ON  THE  YELLOWSTONE THE  PACIFIC  SLOPE A STRONG  PARTY FON- 

TENELLE A HEAVY  BATTLE TRAPPERS  RETREAT REINFORCED 

FLIGHT  OF  INDIANS THE  NAVAJOS. 


This  hero  and  plains  pioneer  was  born  in  Madison  County,  Ken- 
tucky, on  the  24th  day  of  December,  1809,  and  removed  to  Boone’s 
Lick,  Missouri,  when  but  a year  old,  and  thus  many  of  his  biog- 
raphers have  been  led  to  suppose  him  a native  of  Missouri.  A few 
years  ago,  the  house  in  which  his  boyhood  days  were  spent,  was  still 
standing  in  Howard  County,  Missouri  and  may  be  at  the  present 
time.  At  the  age  of  fifteen  years  Kit  was  apprenticed  to  a sad- 
dler named  Workman,  but  unable  to  bear  the  confinement  of  the 
shop  after  his  life  spent  mostly  in  the  woods,  gun  in  hand,  he  aban- 
doned the  bench  and  in  November,  1826,  crossed  the  plains  to 
Santa  Fe  with  a train.  This  decided  his  destiny  by  giving  him  a 
taste  for  wild  adventure,  that  was  never  thoroughly  satiated. 

They  had  no  encounters  with  the  savages,  but  a teamster  had  one 
of  his  arms  so  injured  by  an  accidental  shot  that  it  was  decided  to 
amputate  it  to  save  his  life.  Kit  officiated  at  this  operation,  having 

635 


conquering  the  wilderness. 


splendid  nerve,  and  the  man,  for  a wonder,  recovered  from  the 
effects  of  his  wound  and  the  rude  surgery.  At  Santa  Fe,  Kit  left 
the  traders  with  whom  he  had  crossed  the  plains  and  went  to  Taos 
and  stayed  some  time.  Here  he  rapidly  acquired  the  Spanish 
lan  ornate. 

In  the  spring  of  1827  he  went  to  Missouri,  but  returned  to  New 
Mexico  that  fall,  and  from  Santa  Fe  went  as  a teamster  to  El  Paso. 
Returning  again  to  Santa  Fe  and  Taos,  he  spent  the  winter  as  cook 


HOME  OP  KIT  CARSON  IN  HOWARD  COUNTY,  MI8SOURI. 


for  Ewing  Young,  the  celebrated  trapper  and  Indian  tighter.  In  the 
spring  he  went  with  a trader,  named  Trammell,  again  to  El  Paso  and 
Chihuahua,  but  the  monotonous  life  of  an  interpreter  not  suiting  him, 
he  resigned  his  position  and  accepted  the  less  dignified,  but  more 
exciting  duties  of  a teamster,  going  in  that  capacity  vO  the  copper 
mines  on  the  Gila  River  and  from  there  to  Taos.  Here  he  found 
Young  outfitting  a party  of  trappers  and  was  accepted  e~  a membei 
of  the  company. 


KIT  C ARSON. 


637 


Soon  after  setting  out  for  the  trapping  grounds,  they  met  a large 
number  of  Indians  on  Salt  River,  a tributary  of  the  Gila,  and  in  the 
fight  which  ensued,  killed  fifteen  warriors  without  loosing  a man. 
They  spent  some  time  on  Salt  and  San  Francisco  Rivers  and  starting 
across  the  desert  to  the  Colorado,  they  met,  when  nearly  perished, 
some  friendly  Mohaves  and  were  supplied  with  food  by  them.  They 
struck  the  Colorado  near  the  Grand  Canon,  a terrible  desert  plateau, 
deep  in  whose  bowels  pours  along  the  rapid  waters  of  this  stream. 
For  three  hundred  and  seventeen  miles  the  bed  of  the  river  is  sixty- 
three  hundred  feet  below  the  top  of  its  canon  walls. 

From  here  they  went  to  the  San  Gabriel  Mission  in  California, 
and  from  there  to  that  of  San  Fernando,  and  thence  to  the  Sacramento 
Valley.  Here  they  trapped  some  weeks,  and  Carson  expressed  him- 
self as  delighted  with  the  country.  Next  moving  to  the  San  Joachin 
Valley,  they  met  on  that  river  a party  of  trappers  belonging  to  the 
Hudson  Bay  Company.  They  returned  after  a short  time  to  the  Sacra- 
mento and  while  here,  were  applied  to  by  some  of  the  Mission 
padres  or  priests,  to  aid  them  to  recover  some  of  their  converts,  who 
had  been  persuaded  off  by  hostile  Indians. 

As  they  used  their  converts  as  slaves,  they  felt  the  loss  more  in 
their  pockets  than  in  their  hearts,  and  begged  the  trappers  to 
recover  them  from  the  heretical  savages.  Carson  took  a party  of 
the  trappers  and  finding  the  hostile  village,  attacked  it  furiously, 
causing  a loss  to  the  Indians  of  one-third  of  their  warriors  and  com- 
pelling the  surrender  of  the  converts.  While  at  this  place,  Young 
sold  his  furs  and  bought  a drove  of  horses. 

On  the  third  night  after  the  purchase,  the  mountain  Indians  made 
a descent  and  stole  sixty  of  the  drove.  Carson  with  twelve  men  pur- 
sued them  and  overtook  them  in  the  mountains,  fully  a hundred 
miles  distant.  These  savages  use  horses  only  as  food,  and  when 
Carson  came  upon  them  they  had  killed  six  of  the  drove  and  were 
having  a big  feast.  A swift  charge  and  a deadly  volley  killed  eight 
of  the  twenty  Indians  and  scattered  the  others,  when  Carson  col- 
lected the  stock  and  returned  to  Young’s  camp. 

In  1829  the  trappers  started  on  their  return  to  New  Mexico,  visit- 
ing Los  Angelos  on  their  way  out  of  the  State  of  California.  Here 
some  of  the  trappers  drank  to  excess  and  in  quarrels  between  them 
and  the  natives,  blood  wTas  shed  and  one  of  the  latter  killed.  Young 
started  Carson  on  ahead  with  what  men  were  sober,  and  stayed 


638 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


behind  to  collect  the  rest,  fearing  greater  trouble.  In  a short  time  after 
leaving  Los  Angelos  the  trappers  reached  the  Colorado  Kiver  and 
here  Carson,  while  in  camp  with  a few  men,  was  surrounded  by  sev- 
eral hundred  Indians,  some  of  whom  intruded  themselves  into  the 
camp,  with  arms  in  their  hands.  When  ordered  out,  they  acted  very 
insolently,  but  Carson  having  found  out  that  they  understood  the 
Spanish  language,  plainly  told  them  that  he  would  not  be  robbed 
nor  imposed  on  and  that  if  they  didn’t  go  at  once,  he  would  fire  on 
them,  even  if  he  had  every  one  of  his  men  killed.  Seeing  Carson’s 
determination  they  departed  sullenly. 

While  at  this  camp,  which  was  situated  near  the  trail  the  raiding 
Indians  took  when  coming  out  of  Arizona  and  California,  Kit  with 
his  men  one  day  overtook  a band  of  them  driving  off  a herd  of  cat- 
tle. Dashing  at  them  without  a moment’s  hesitation,  the  trappers 
put  them  to  flight,  killing  and  wounding  several  of  them  and  captur- 
ing all  of  the  cattle. 

About  a week  after  this  brush,  another  marauding  band  passed  by 
the  camp  with  one  hundred  head  of  horses  they  had  just  stolen  in 
Arizona.  As  the  trappers  were  needing  horses,  they  determined  to 
attack  these  Indians  though  they  were  in  heavy  force,  and  follow- 
ing slowly,  they  charged  them  soon  after  they  went  into  camp  and 
succeeded  in  capturing  every  animal  in  the  drove.  Ten  of  the  sav- 
ages were  killed. 

Taking  the  horses  back  to  their  camp  they  selected  the  finest  and 
turned  the  others  lose,  to  make  their  way  back  to  the  ranches  in 
Arizona,  or  to  become  wild  roamers  of  the  plains.  After  a few  weeks 
spent  at  this  place,  they  went  down  the  Colorado  and  then  up  the 
Gila  to  the  point  nearest  to  the  copper  mines,  and  then  crossed  over. 
Here  they  left  their  furs  and  went  on  to  Santa  Fe. 

This  was  done  to  obtain  a license  to  trade  with  the  Indians,  as  the 
Mexican  Government  allowed  no  Americans  to  trap  in  its  waters, 
and  Young,  having  obtained  the  license,  returned  to  the  mines  and 
securing  his  furs  took  them  to  Santa  Fe,  thus  causing  the  officials  to 
suppose  that  they  had  been  purchased  from  the  savages.  These  were 
sold  at  enormous  profit  and  the  men  were  well  supplied  with  money. 

In  imitation  of  his  comrades  who,  like  sailors,  went  on  a spree  at 
every  return  from  a trip,  Carson  drank  freely  and  spent  his  money 
lavishly.  At  the  end  of  a short  time  he  came  to  the  bottom  of  his 
purse,  and  disgusted  with  the  life  he  had  been  leading  for  a week  or 


KIT  CARSON. 


639 


two,  made  some  good  resolves  which,  unlike  the  generality  of 
repentant  drunkards,  he  ever  after  kept.  In  his  long  and  useful  life 
this  was  his  last  spree.  In  the  autumn  Kit  joined  a party  of  trap- 
pers under  Fitzpatrick  and  went  to  the  Platte  River.  After  a short 
stay  here,  they  pushed  on  to  the  Salmon  River  and  wintered  with 
the  friendly  Nez  Perces  and  when  spring  opened,  made  their  way  to 
Bear  River,  where  Carson  left  the  party  to  go  to  New  Park,  on  the 
head  of  the  Arkansas,  somewhere  in  the  vicinity  of  the  present  site 
of  Leadville.  The  Tennessee  Park  of  to-day  is  probably  the  locality 
mentioned. 

On  the  way  to  this  point  a party  of  sixty  Crow  Indians  robbed  the 
trappers  at  night,  driving  off  their  horses.  With  twelve  of  his  best 
men  Carson  started  in  pursuit  and  found  the  Indians  encamped  in  a 
rude  log  fort,  the  trappers’  horses  tied  within  ten  feet  of  the  breast- 
works. Posting  his  men  to  cover  him  to  the  best  advantage,  Kit 
dashed  boldly  up  to  the  horses,  cut  them  loose  and  secured  them  all. 

He  now  determined  to  punish  the  Crows  for  the  theft,  and  in  the 
fierce  attack  which  followed,  five  of  their  bravest  warriors  were 
killed.  . An  Indian  with  the  trappers,  encouraged  by  their  example, 
rushed  up  to  the  fort  where  a warrior’s  body  lay  across  the  logs, 
boldly  dragged  it  outside  and  secured  the  scalp. 

The  next  theft  was  committed  by  two  of  their  own  party,  who 
deserted,  robbed  a cache  and  started  on  toward  the  East.  They 
were  pursued  at  once,  but  were  never  again  heard  of  and  it  is  prob- 
able that  they  fell  a prey  to  the  Indians.  Going  on  to  the  Arkan- 
sas, Carson  fell  in  with  Gaunt’s  men  and  they  were  subjected  to 
many  dangers.  Their  encounters  with  Indians  were  of  daily  occur- 
rence. One  day,  when  out  with  a single  comrade,  Kit  only  saved 
his  life  by  the  fleetness  with  which  he  fled  from  the  fifty  savages  in 
pursuit. 

Time  had  flown  rapidly ; it  was  now  the  spring  of  1832,  and  Gaunt’s 
men  had  been  very  unsuccessful.  Carson,  thinking  he  could 
do  better,  trapping  on  his  own  account,  took  two  men  and  leaving 
the  party,  went  higher  up  into  the  mountains,  thus  avoiding  Indian 
troubles  and  securing  numbers  of  beavers. 

His  success  was  very  great  and  carrying  his  furs  to  Taos,  he  sold 
out  to  the  traders  there  and  joined  Captain  Lee,  who  was  an  officer 
in  the  army  of  the  United  States  and  also  was  now  a partner  of 
Bent  and  St.  Yrain.  With  his  party  Carson  went  to  Green  River, 


G40 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


where  they  met  another  party  of  trappers.  An  Indian — who  had  been 
with  the  latter  company  for  some  time — had,  the  night  before  the 
arrival  of  Lee,  stolen  six  of  their  best  horses  and  fled.  Having 
obtained  Lee’s  permission  to  go  in  pursuit,  Carson  got  a young  Ute 


KIT  CARSON. 


warrior  to  accompany  him  and  the  two  set  off  on  the  trail  of  the  horse- 
thief.  He  had  a good  start  and  was  making  his  way  rapidly  toward 
California.  After  going  about  a hundred  miles,  the  horse  of  the 
young  brave  became  sick  and  Carson  pushed  on  alone,  overtaking 
the  Indian  about  thirty  miles  from  the  point  where  he  left  the  Ute. 


KIT  CARSON. 


C 41 


As  soon  as  the  Indian  saw  Carson,  he  dismounted  and  sought  the 
cover  of  some  rocks  near  at  hand.  Knowing  the  reputation  the  sav- 
age had  as  a rifle  shot,  Carson  determined  to  risk  a fire  while  dash- 
ing  toward  him  at  full  speed,  and  by  good  luck  his  ball  pierced  the 
Indian’s  heart.  The  stock  was  collected  and  taken  back  to  camp, 
which  the  Ute  had  already  reached.  Learning  that  Bridger  and 
Fitzpatrick  were  camped  fifteen  miles  below  them,  Lee  moved  camp 
to  that  point  and  sold  his  goods  to  them,  taking  his  pay  in  furs.  He 
now  returned  to  New  Mexico  and  Carson,  with  three  comrades, 
started  on  a trapping  expedition,  during  which  they  met  with  fine 
success.  It  was  during  this  expedition  that  one  or  more  of  Kit’s 
biographers  tell  of  his  being  treed  by  two  grizzly  bears,  which  he 
beat  off  with  a club  as  fast  as  they  climbed  i p to  him. 

It  is  a well  known  fact,  at  least  to  all  hunters  and  trappers,  that 
the  grizzly  bear  is  not  a climber  and  it  is  also  another  well  known 
fact  to  every  man  who  has  ever  been  in  the  Green  River  country, 
that  any  club  Kit  could  have  cut,  in  any  tree  growing  in  that  region, 
would  have  but  slight  effect  in  beating  off  any  grizzly  that  could 
force  an  experienced  hunter  to  climb  a tree.  Keturning  to  Bridger’ s 
camp,  Carson  joined  his  party  and  that  fall  went  to  the  Blackfoot 
country  on  the  mountain  waters  of  the  Missouri  River.  Here  they 
were  so  harassed  by  these  savages  that  they  were  forced  to  retreat 
and  going  into  camp  on  the  plain  below,  their  horses  were  one  night 
stolen. 

The  trappers  got  on  the  trail  and  followed  the  thieves  closely, 
at  last  overtaking  them.  Here  a parley  ensued  in  which  the  Black- 
feet  said  they  thought,  when  they  took  the  stock,  that  it  belonged 
to  the  Crows.  “In  that  case,”  said  Carson,  “bring  in  the  stock  and 
turn  it  over  to  us.”  To  this  there  was  considerable  demurrer,  but 
at  last  they  brought  in  five  of  the  poorest  horses.  Carson  now  saw 
that  further  parley  was  useless  and  gave  the  word  to  his  men  to  fire. 
He  and  a man  named  Markland  were  slightly  in  advance  of  their 
comrades  and  were  the  first  to  discharge  their  pieces.  Each  had 
covered  a savage,  but  Kit  saw  another  Indian  behind  a tree  about  to 
fire  on  Markland,  and  with  a quick  aim  he  fired,  killing  his  man. 

His  devotion  to  his  friend  came  near  proving  fatal  to  himself,  for 
the  Indian  at  whom  he  had  first  aimed,  now  fired  and  Kit  fell  with  a 
broken  shoulder  and  remained  upon  the  ground  while  the  fight  was 
raging  around  him.  Several  of  the  Indians  were  killed  and  one 


642 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


other  white  man  wounded  when  both  parties  ceased  firing  and  drew 
off.  The  trappers  saw  that  they  were  too  few  in  number  to  effect 
their  purpose  and  returned  to  camp  with  their  wounded  comrades. 
Bridger  with  thirty  men  now  went  in  pursuit,  but  failed  to  overtake 
the  Indians. 

The  trappers  spent  the  time,  until  summer,  on  Green  and  Big  Snake 
Rivers  and  then  proceeded  to  the  summer  rendezvous.  Carson’s 
shoulder  was  entirely  well  and  gave  him  no  trouble  at  this  time. 
At  this  rendezvous  the  Reverend  Samuel  Parker  spent  some  days. 
He  was  on  his  way  to  do  missionary  work  on  the  Pacific  Coast,  and 
was  one  of  the  pioneers  of  Protestanism  on  “the  slope.”  It  will  be 
seen,  by  a comparison  of  dates,  that  he  had  crossed  the  plains  long 
before  Brigham  Young,  the  apostle  of  lust  and  murder,  had  started 
to  build  up  his  beastly  establishment  at  Salt  Lake. 

At  this  general  rendezvous  were  gathered  all  the  trappers  from 
hundreds  of  miles  around  and  amongst  them  were  men  of  every 
grade  and  nationality.  Here  were  men  who,  like  Carson,  Bridger 
and  Fitzpatrick,  ennobled  their  profession,  but  there  were  others 
who,  in  the  slums  of  cities,  would  have  become  thugs  and  assassins, 
and  here  were  bullies  and  thieves. 

Amongst  the  latter  class  was  a gigantic  French  trapper,  named 
Shuman,  or  as  some  accounts  have  it,  Shunar,  who  made  himself 
especially  obnoxious.  The  Americans  seemed  to  be  his  particular 
detestation,  and  mounting  his  horse  one  day,  rifle  in  hand,  he  issued 
a challenge  to  any  of  that  nation  to  fight  him.  “I  want  to  kill  an 
American,”  he  shouted;  “any  American,  I don’t  care  who.  Come 
out  and  fight  me.” 

Carson,  who  was  a pigmy  in  comparison  with  the  Frenchman,  was 
standing  near  and  he  said  quietly:  “I  am  an  American — the  most 
inconsiderable  one  amongst  them,  but  if  you  wish  to  die,  I will 
accept  your  challenge.”  With  a grin  of  delight  the  Frenchman 
rode  off  a short  distance  to  give  Carson  a chance  to  mount  his 
horse,  and  then  the  two  came  thundering  toward  each  other.  Shu- 
man had  his  rifle,  Kit  only  a single-barrel  pistol,  and  as  their  horses’ 
heads  passed  each  other,  both  fired.  The  ball  from  Shuman’s  rifle 
cut  a slight  gash  in  Kit’s  scalp,  while  the  pistol  bullet  tore  through 
the  Frenchman’s  hand,  cut  a furrow  along  his  arm  and  fractured  his 
elbow.  Shuman  fell  from  his  horse,  roaring  with  fright  and  pain 
and  begged  for  his  life.  Carson  paid  no  attention  to  the  coward, 


KIT  CARSON. 


643 


but  turned  off  and  rejoined  his  comrades.  It  is  safe  to  say  that 
Shuman  issued  no  more  challenges  to  Americans. 

Starting  from  the  rendezvous,  Carson  went  over  to  the  Yellow- 
stone  River,  where  he  met  McCoy,  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  and 
with  him  crossed  over  to  the  Humboldt  River.  Separating  on  this 
stream,  with  the  understanding  that  they  were  to  meet  at  Fort  Hall, 
Carson’s  way  lay  through  a desert,  where  his  men  nearly  perished 
of  famine.  At  the  sink  of  the  Humboldt  they  luckily  met  a party 
of  friendly  Snake  Indians,  from  whom  they  purchased  a fat  horse, 
and  soon  afterward  came  to  some  plains  where  were  a great  many 
buffalos.  Here,  while  waiting  for  McCoy,  the  Blackfeet  stole  every 
one  of  their  horses  and  being  unable  to  pursue  the  mounted  robbers, 
they  had  to  wait  until  McCoy  came  up.  From  him  they  obtained 
stock  and  returned  to  their  former  rendezvous  on  Green  River. 

At  this  place  a party  of  one  hundred  men  was  organized  to  pene- 
trate the  Blackfoot  country.  It  was  their  object  to  put  fifty  of  these 
men  to  trapping  and  hunting,  while  the  other  fifty  were  to  act  as  a 
guard.  The  men  were  under  command  of  Carson  and  Fontenelle. 
When  they  reached  the  vicinity  of  the  Blackfeet  they  learned  that 
they  were  suffering  terribly  with  small-pox,  and  they  camped  on  the 
plain  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  Near  them  was  a camp  of 
friendly  Crows.  When  spring  came  they  began  their  work  on  the 
Yellowstone  and  head  wraters  of  the  Missouri,  and  here  they  found 
out  that  the  epidemic  amongst  the  Indians  had  been  less  fatal  than 
they  had  hoped. 

Finding  a village  Carson,  with  fifty-three  men,  made  an  attack 
upon  it,  killing  ten  savages  at  the  first  fire  and  wounding  many 
more.  The  Indians  now  began  a retreat,  followed  by  the  victorious 
trappers  for  three  hours.  All  this  time  the  flying  savages  were  fal- 
ling beneath  the  constant  fire  of  the  white  men,  but  at  last  the 
ammunition  of  the  latter  ran  low  and  the  Indians  seeing  the  state 
of  affairs,  halted  and  made  a charge.  This  was  repelled  by  the 
trappers  with  their  pistols,  but  the  Indians  coming  again  to  the 
charge,  the  trappers  were  forced  to  retreat.  While  retreating,  a 
horse  of  one  of  the  whites  was  killed  and  fell  upon  its  rider,  injur- 
ing him  severely.  To  save  him,  Carson  planted  himself  before  him 
and  rallied  his  men.  At  this  point  five  savages  were  killed  around 
the  wounded  man,  who  was  borne  back  by  his  comrades.  Again 


644 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


the  Indians  press  forward  and  beat  back  the  trappers,  but  in  a short 
time  the  fortunes  of  the  day  once  more  change. 

In  their  rear  the  trappers  heard  the  loud  cheers  of  their  comrades 
and  made  a brave  effort  to  hold  their  ground.  The  others,  under 
Fontenelle,  having  arrived,  the  trappers  once  more  fly  to  the  charge 
and  after  a stubborn  conflict,  the  day  is  theirs.  In  this  series  of 
combats  the  trappers  lost  three  men  killed  and  had  several  wounded, 
while  the  loss  of  the  Indians  was  nearly  one  hundred  killed  and  fully 
that  many  wounded.  The  trappers  were  not  again  molested  by 
these  Indians  during  that  season.  From  here  they  went  to  Mud 
Fiver,  and  learning  that  some  traders  were  camped  on  that  stream, 
they  went  down  to  trade,  and  having  disposed  of  their  furs  the  party 
broke  up  and  Carson,  with  seven  companions,  went  on  a visit  to  the 
Navajos.  These  Indians  are  very  superior  to  the  surrounding  tribes, 
in  fact  to  any  of  the  North  American  savages,  and  are  doubtless  a 
remnant  of  the  civilized  Aztecs. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


STIRRING-  ADVENTURES  OF  KIT  CARSON. 


DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  NAVAJOS BROWN’S  HOLE POST  HUNTER GOES  TO 

THE  YELLOWSTONE A DESPERATE  BATTLE CARSON  BUILDS  FORTIFICA- 
TIONS  A DARING  CHARGE REPULSED A FIELD  OF  SLAUGHTER 

CONTINUAL  ANNOYANCE TRAPPERS  GO  TO  SALMON  RIVER TRY  THE 

BLACKFEET  AGAIN ATTACKED FIGHT  FROM  A THICKET INDIANS 

REPULSED RETREAT  OF  THE  TRAPPERS VISIT  THE  FLATHEADS 

HUNTS  FOR  BENT’S  FORT TAKES  AN  INDIAN  WIFE MEETS  FREMONT 

ACTS  AS  GUIDE CARSON  MARRIES  IN  NEW  MEXICO FREMONT’S  SECOND 

EXPEDITION VOYAGE  ON  SALT  LAKE SHORT  RATIONS ARRIVAL  OF 

FITZPATRICK JOURNEY  TO  THE  PACIFIC TERRIBLE  SUFFERINGS 

JOINS  FREMONT’S  THIRD  EXPEDITION IN  OREGON LAJEUNESSE  KILLED 

CARSON’S  REVENGE CAPTURES  SPIES DISPATCHED  TO  WASHING- 
TON  STOPS  AT  TAOS APPOINTED  LIEUTENANT THE  SLEEPY  SENTINEL 

CURED FIGHT  ON  VIRGIN  RIVER WINTERS  AT  TEJON  PASS OLD  BILL 

WILLIAMS LAROUX DESPERATE  ADVENTURES CARSON  RESCUES 

TRADERS SURROUNDED  BY  CHEYENNES A MAN  OF  RESOURCES VIS- 
ITS HIS  DAUGHTER LAST  TRAPPING  EXPEDITION DRIVES  SHEEP  TO 

CALIFORNIA A BRIGADIER-GENERAL DEATH  OF  CARSON. 


The  Navajos  possess  large  flocks  of  sheep  and  droves  of  horses, 
the  latter  highly  improved  from  the  Mustang.  They  weave  blankets, 
upon  their  small  hand  looms,  which  are  unequalled  for  texture  and 
harmonious  colors  by  any  in  the  world.  Some  of  these  webs  are  so 
compactly  woven  that  they  will  turn  rain  and  water  may  be  carried 
in  them.  From  these  friendly  Indians  Carson  went  to  Brown’s 
Hole,  a narrow  valley  of  the  Colorado  Biver  and  there  wintered. 
He  employed  his  time  hunting  for  the  fort  located  there,  and  in  the 
spring  went  with  Bridger  and  Owen  on  a trapping  expedition  and 
then  visited  the  rendezvous  on  Wind  Biver,  where  they  disposed  of 
their  furs.  A party  of  forty  men,  of  whom  Carson  was  one,  deter- 
mined to  go  to  the  Yellowstone,  though  the  Blackfeet  were  there  in 
force.  Their  entrance  into  that  country  was  signalized  by  a heavy 
battle  with  some  hundreds  of  the  Indians,  from  which,  about  sun- 
down, both  sides  drew  off  and  that  night  the  Blackfeet  retired. 
Something  in  their  actions  convinced  Carson  that  they  would  return 
with  reinforcements  and  renew  the  fight,  and  he  had  his  men  to  go 
to  work  and  build  a strong  fortification.  Some  of  them  laughed  at 

645 


646 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


his  excessive  caution,  but  it  was  justified  by  the  arrival,  in  three 
days,  of  a war  party  of  over  one  thousand  Blackfeet.  So  confident 
were  the  savages  of  victory,  that  they  held  their  dances  in  full  view 
of  the  fortified  trappers.  Carson  knew  that  a charge  would  succeed 
to  these  dances  and  he  warned  his  men  to  be  prepared  and  to  hold 
their  fire  until  the  Indians  were  so  close  that  not  a shot  should 
miss. 

Hardly  had  his  instructions  been  delivered  than,  with  a series  of  the 
most  terrible  yells,  the  Indians  dashed  forward  to  the  charge.  Not  a 
sound  was  heard  from  the  fort  until  the  savages  were  within  twenty 
yards,  when  the  trappers  poured  in  a volley  from  their  rifles  and 
drawing  their  pistols,  began  to  pick  off  the  wavering  Blackfeet,  who 
now  turned  in  headlong  flight,  leaving  seventy-five  dead  and  dying 
men  under  the  walls  of  the  little  fort.  Dismayed  at  such  tremendous 
execution,  the  Indians,  without  attempting  another  assault,  drew  off 
and  left  the  trappers  masters  of  the  field.  So  great  was  the  annoy- 
ance they  caused  the  trappers,  however,  by  destroying  their  traps, 
that  they  were  obliged  to  leave  the  Yellowstone  and  crossed  over 
to  Salmon  River.  Here  they  spent  some  days  and  then  went  to 
the  Big  Snake  River;  at  both  of  which  camps  they  had  good  luck. 
The  furs  taken  were  sold  at  Fort  Hall  and  again  joining  Bridger, 
Carson  went  over  to  the  Blackfoot  country,  thinking  beaver  must  be 
plenty  there.  The  war-like  Blackfeet  had  just  driven  out  a trap- 
ping party  and  they  attempted  to  serve  Bridger  and  Carson  in  the 
same  way.  They  came  on  to  the  attack  in  overwhelming  num- 
bers, but  Carson  made  a lucky  selection  of  a small  thicket  in  which 
to  hide  his  men  and  around  this  the  battle  raged  for  some  time. 
Charging  boldly  up  to  the  chapparal,  with  their  men  falling  on  every 
side,  the  Indians  made  several  gallant  attempts  to  fire  the  thicket 
and  drive  out  their  enemy,  when  they  would  have  speedily  annihi- 
lated them,  but  the  bushes  proved  too  green  to  burn,  and  at  every 
onset  the  warriors  were  beaten  back  with  heavy  loss. 

It  now  became  evident  to  the  trappers  that  they  would  be  subject 
to  continual  annoyance  and  attack,  and  that  they  would  eventually  be 
killed  in  detail  by  these  determined  savages,  and  joining  forces  with 
the  party  that  had  preceded  them,  they  all  went  to  the  North  Fork 
of  the  Missouri,  the  country  of  the  Flatheads,  a friendly  tribe 
celebrated  for  their  fine  horses.  After  this  expedition  Carson,  who 
was  now  tired  of  the  life  of  a trapper — which  he  had  followed  for 


STIRRING  ADVENTURES  OF  KIT  CARSON. 


647 


eight  years — determined  to  quit  it,  and  engaged  with  Bent  and  St. 
Vrain  as  hunter  for  their  fort  on  the  Arkansas.  Here  his  bravery 
and  honesty  gained  for  him  the  friendship  of  the  Utes,  Arapahoes, 
Cheyennes,  Comanches  and  other  tribes,  and  as  a proof  of  this,  the 
Sioux  and  Comanches,  who  were  at  war  with  each  other,  agreed  to 
submit  their  differences  to  his  arbitration;  the  justice  of  which  sat- 
isfied both  nations. 

It  was  while  acting  as  hunter  for  this  fort  that  Carson  took  an 
Indian  wife.  By  her  he  had  one  daughter.  His  wife  dying  while 
the  little  girl  was  yet  a baby,  Carson  took  her  to  St.  Louis  to  be 
raised  and  educated,  and  while  on  this  trip  met  Fremont,  who  was 
waiting  for  Dripps,  a celebrated  guide,  to  arrive.  Concluding  that 
Carson  would  do  fully  as  well,  Fremont  engaged  him  and  having 
completed  his  party,  set  out  for  the  Pacific  Coast.  This  part  of 
Carson’s  life  is  well  known,  so  we  shall  merely  allude  to  Ps  inci- 
dents, which  have  been  given  to  the  world  in  hundreds  of  periodicals 
and  in  biographies,  not  only  of  himself,  but  also  of  Fremont.  In 
the  swift  waters  of  the  Platte  he  narrowly  escaped  being  drowned, 
but  making  the  miss  that,  according  to  the  proverb,  “is  as  good  as  a 
mile,,’  they  journeyed  on  and  reached  Fort  Laramie.  Here  they 
learned  of  a combination  of  the  Sioux,  Cheyenne  and  Gros  Yentre 
nations  into  one  grand  confederacy,  that  had  for  its  object  the 
extermination  of  the  whites  and  the  closing  of  the  plains  to  their 
excursions,  and  Carson  was  naturally  uneasy  at  the  prospect. 

Fremont  broadly  insinuates  that  Carson  was  scared,  but  all  who 
knew  the  man,  knew  that  he  was  a stranger  to  that  sensation  and 
would  venture  where  Fremont  would  never  dare  to  follow.  Fre- 
mont also  speaks  of  “his  favorite  man,  Lajeunesse,”  and  in  every 
way  attempts  to  snub  the  man  to  whom  to-day  he  owes  his  fame 
and  of  whom  he  was  ever  jealous.  On  the  return  of  the  party, 
Carson  left  it  at  Laramie  and  went  to  New  Mexico.  Here,  in  1843, 
he  married  a Spanish  woman  and  was  often  employed  at  Bent’s 
Fort;  Bent  and  St.  Yrain  always  displaying  the  warmest  friendship 
for  the  brave  trapper. 

While  in  New  Mexico,  Carson  heard  that  Fremont  was  again 
making  an  expedition  (his  second,)  and  desiring  once  more  to  see 
the  man,  to  whom  he  had  taught  the  trackless  paths  of  the  plains, 
and  having  already  forgotton,  if  he  had  ever  noticed,  the  slights  of 
Fremont,  he  made  a long  journey  to  see  him.  Fremont,  while 


648 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


unwilling  to  admit  it,  was  overjoyed  to  see  Carson  and  straightway 
offered  him  employment,  which  the  latter  as  promptly  accepted.  It 
was  upon  this  expedition  that  they  visited  the  Great  Salt  Lake  and 
made  a voyage  upon  the  salty  inland  sea.  They  visited  one  of  its 
barren  islands  and  ascended  a peak  that  rose  eight  hundred  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  lake.  Upon  the  shores  of  this  lake  they  were 
joined  by  Fitzpatrick  with  much  needed  supplies;  being  reduced  to 
a diet  of  horse  flesh. 

Their  journey  to  the  Pacific  and  their  subsequent  terrible  suffer- 
ings amongst  the  snow  clad  mountains,  are  known  to  the  world,  as 
is  also  Fremont’s  folly  in  attempting  their  passage  at  this  season. 
It  was  while  here  that  Carson  rescued  Fremont  from  a death  by 
drowning  in  an  icy  torrent.  So  terrible  was  the  fatigue,  famine 
and  cold,  that  one  of  the  men,  Derosier,  became  deranged  and  all 
narrowly  escaped  death.  After  this  expedition,  Carson  returned  to 
Taos,  in  New  Mexico,  and  wintered  with  his  family.  Here,  in  the 
spring  of  1845,  he  began  farming  and  was  busily  engaged  in  this 
occupation  when  he  received  a message  from  Fremont,  asking  him 
to  join  his  third  expedition  to  the  sources  of  the  great  rivers  of  both 
slopes.  With  the  party  were  his  old  friends,  Walker  and  Maxwell, 
both  noted  mountaineers.  After  a trip  of  no  unusual  interest,  they 
reached  Sutter’s  Fort  and  were  warmly  welcomed  by  this  pioneer. 

After  leaving  the  hospitable  Sutter,  Carson,  by  his  watchfulness, 
saved  the  party  from  massacre  by  the  Indians.  Soon  aftei  this, 
Lieutenant  Gillespie,  with  dispatches  from  Washington,  overtook 
Fremont,  while  the  latter  was  encamped  on  a lake  in  Oregon.  The 
night  of  Gillespie’s  arrival,  the  Klamath  Indians  made  an  attack, 
killing  Fremont’s  favorite  Lajeunesse,  Crane  and  one  of  the  Dela- 
ware Indians.  Carson,  to  avenge  these  murders,  set  out  on  the 
Indian  trail  with  a few  men,  and  sighting  an  Indian  village  charged 
furiously  into  it,  killing  ten  of  its  warriors  and  routing  the  others. 
The  village,  too,  was  burned  and  the  party  set  out  on  their  return. 
On  their  way  they  were  intercepted  by  a small  party,  whom  they 
soon  put  to  flight,  with  the  exception  of  a brave  old  chief,  who 
boldly  stood  his  ground  and  as  Carson  and  Godey  came  up,  saluted 
them  with  a perfect  shower  of  steel  pointed  arrows. 

It  was  only  by  death  that  he  could  be  removed  from  their  path, 
and  Carson  with  a quick  aim  fired  and  the  fierce  old  fellow  fell 
dead.  Carson  was  now  sent  to  Washington  with  dispatches,  but 


STIRRING  ADVENTURES  OF  KIT  CARSON.  640 

meeting  Kearney  on  the  Rio  Grande,  the  message  was  entrusted  to 
Fitzpatrick,  and  Carson,  at  Kearney’s  command,  turned  back  with 
him  to  California.  On  the  borders  of  California,  Carson  captured 
two  Mexican  spies  who  were  carrying  important  dispatches  and  who 
were  able  to  give  valuable  information  of  the  movement  of  the 
enemy.  A few  days  later,  in  an  attack  on  a Mexican  outpost,  Car- 
son’s horse  fell  with  him,  breaking  his  gun  stock,  and  before  he 
could  get  up,  a whole  company  of  dragoons  had  ridden  over  him. 

Not  being  badly  hurt,  he  caught  his  horse,  took  the  gun  of  a dead 
soldier  and  galloped  into  the  thickest  of  the  fight.  After  a short 
skirmish  the  Mexicans  retreated.  Following  them  rapidly,  Kearney 
fell  upon  the  main  body  of  the  enemy  and  a fierce  battle  ensued, 
in  which  the  Americans  suffered  heavily  from  the  hot  fire  and 
immense  numbers  of  the  enemy. 

Kearney  desired  to  send  for  reinforcements  and  Carson  and  Lieu- 
tenant Beale  undertook,  at  night,  to  make  their  way  through  the 
Mexican  lines,  in  order  to  reach  Commodore  Stockton  at  Monterey. 
By  crawling  for  over  two  miles  over  a plain  covered  with  cactus  and 
prickly  pear,  the  two  men,  after  innumerable  dangers  and  hardships, 
got  beyond  the  Mexican  pickets,  but  so  great  had  been  their  suffer- 
ings that  Beale  was  for  some  time  deranged.  Before  they  were  able 
to  return,  Kearney  had,  after  some  obstinate  fighting,  been 
able  to  drive  the  defeated  and  disheartened  enemy  before  him,  and 
reaching  Fremont,  they  surrendered  to  him,  thus  cheating  Kearney 
out  of  the  laurels  he  had  so  bravely  won,  and  turning  over  to  Fre- 
mont— who  had  never  struck  a blow — the  glory  of  the  achievement. 

Carson  was  again  dispatched  to  Washington  with  messages  for 
the  government,  detailing  the  conquest,  and  then  returned  to  Cali- 
fornia. Again,  in  1847,  he  was  sent  in  company  with  Lieutenant 
Beale  overland  to  Washington  City,  with  important  dispatches  and 
on  this  trip  was  attacked  one  night,  during  a violent  storm,  while 
camped  on  the  Gila.  Luckily  no  one  of  the  party  was  killed.  At 
Taos,  Carson  stopped  one  day  with  his  family  and  here  he  learned 
that  President  Polk  had  appointed  him  to  a Lieutenantcy  in  the  regu- 
lar army.  With  fifty  men  he  was  ordered  to  again  cross  the  plains, 
and  at  the  Point  of  Rocks  had  a battle  with  Indians,  killing  several 
of  the  latter  and  recapturing  a large  herd  of  cattle  they  were  driv- 
ing off.  Finding  one  of  his  sentinels  asleep  on  guard,  Carson  made 


650 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


him  wear  a woman’s  dress  for  one  day.  No  more  of  his  men  were 
ever  caught  napping  on  dufy. 

At  Santa  Fe  he  met  his  family  and  spent  a few  days  with  them. 
Soon  after  leaving  Santa  Fe  he  came  across  three  hundred  Indians, 
who  disputed  his  passage.  Having  only  sixteen  men  with  him,  Car- 
son  had  but  little  hope  of  escaping,  but  he  knew  that  if  he  turned 
to  fly  every  man  would  be  killed,  and  giving  the  word  he  fired, 
bringing  down  the  chief  of  the  band.  Sixteen  other  Indians  fell  and 
the  whites  drawing  their  pistols,  the  others  fled.  This  fight  occurred 
on  Virgin  Eiver,  and  here  they  were  obliged  to  kill  two  of  their 
mules  for  food. 

On  Carson’s  arrival  at  Monterey,  he  was  detailed  with  twenty-five 
men  to  go  to  Tejon  Pass  to  look  after  the  Indian  depredators,  who 
made  this  their  roadway  through  the  mountains.  Here  he  wintered, 
having  several  encounters  with  the  savages,  and  in  the  spring  again 
went  with  dispatches  to  Washington,  stopping  on  the  way  a few 
days  at  Taos  with  his  family.  On  this  trip  he  encountered  hundreds 
of  Indians,  but  was  not  once  attacked.  At  Santa  Fe  he  learned  that 
his  appointment  as  Lieutenant  had  not  been  confirmed  by  the  Sen- 
ate and  many  of  his  friends,  thinking  this  a great  injustice,  advised 
him  to  go  no  further.  Determined,  however,  to  do  his  duty,  he 
pushed  bravely  on,  although  he  had  heard  that  there  were  hundreds 
of  Comanches  on  the  war  path  along  the  Santa  Fe  trail. 

Taking  with  him  only  ten  picked  men,  he  crossed  the  desert 
divide  to  the  Platte  and  going  by  the  way  of  Fort  Kearney,  reached 
Leavenworth.  From  here  he  went  alone  to  Washington  and  then 
returned  by  way  of  Leavenworth  to  Taos  and,  with  his  old  friend 
Maxwell,  made  a settlement  near  that  place.  Fremont  was  at 
this  time  making  another  expedition,  the  blame  of  whose  terrible 
disasters  he  endeavors  to  throw  upon  the  shoulders  of  old  Bill  Wil- 
liams, though  Leroux  rather  plainly  intimates  that  they  were  caused 
by  the  egotism  and  obstinacy  of  Fremont.  While  at  his  settlement 
Carson  went  with  a party  to  rescue  a Mrs.  White,  who  had  been 
taken  by  the  Apaches.  Leroux  was  appointed  leader  and  Carson’s 
advice  disregarded,  and  in  consequence  Mrs.  White  was  sacrificed 
by  the  Indians. 

Soon  after  this,  twenty  Apaches  stole  seven  horses  from  the  set- 
tiers  and  Carson,  with  ten  men  pursued  them.  Coming  up  with  the 
thieves,  Carson  attacked  them,  killing  five  warriors  and  recovering 


STIRRING  ADVENTURES  OE  KIT  CARSON. 


651 


all  of  the  horses.  His  next  venture  was  taking  a drove  of  horses 
and  mules  to  Laramie.  These  he  sold  at  a good  price  and  hiring  a 
Mexican  there  to  accompany  him  back,  they  made  the  trip  in  safety. 
They  travelled  mostly  by  night;  staking  their  horses  out  in  the  day 
and  sleeping  in  the  trees  and  crevices  of  the  rocks. 

While  resting  from  his  trip,  he  learned  that  a party  of  despera- 
does had  joined  two  traders  going  back  to  St.  Louis.  Their  object 
in  hiring  out  to  the  traders  was  to  rob  them  of  a large  sum  of  money 
they  were  conveying  back  to  the  States.  Fearing  that  he  might  be 
too  late  to  prevent  this  outrage,  Carson  set  out  at  once  with  a single 
companion  and  rode  day  and  night.  Fortunately,  the  day  he  over- 
took the  party,  he  came  across  a troop  of  soldiers  who  turned  back 
with  him.  No  overt  act  having  been  committed,  all  Carson  could  do 
was  to  warn  the  traders,  disperse  the  desperadoes  and  take  their 
leader,  Fox,  back  to  Taos  where  he  was  imprisoned  for  a few 
months.  On  their  return  from  St.  Louis,  the  traders  presented 
Carson  with  a magnificent  pair  of  pistols ; the  finest  they  could  have 
made  for  him. 

Before  Carson  reached  Santa  Fe  on  his  return  from  this  trip,  he 
found  his  way  blocked  by  a large  war  party  of  Cheyennes  who, 
during  his  long  absence  in  California,  had  entirely  forgotten  him. 
Going  boldly  into  their  council  he  heard  all  of  their  plans,  they  evi- 
dently thinking  him  ignorant  of  their  language.  When  they  had 
concluded,  however,  he  arose  and  after  telling  them  who  he  was, 
informed  them  that  it  would  be  a danger,  accompanied  by  but  little 
spoil,  if  he  was  attacked,  for  that  he  would  sell  his  life  as  dearly  as 
possible.  For  the  time  the  danger  was  over,  but  as  he  moved  the 
Indians  enveloped  him  and  when  he  camped  for  the  night,  they 
again  went  into  council. 

Carson  now  took  a Spanish  boy  whom  he  had  raised  and  advis- 
ing him  of  the  peril  and  just  how  to  act,  started  him  off  three  hun- 
dred miles  for  succor.  He  told  the  hardy  youth  that  he  must  travel 
fast  if  he  would  save  his  own  life  or  that  of  any  of  the  little  party. 
In  the  council  the  Indians  voted  to  attack  the  next  day,  but  when 
dawn  came,  Carson  called  their  attention  to  the  tracks  of  the 
horse,  upon  which  he  had  sent  off  his  messenger,  and  told  them  that 
the  boy  would  bring  up  troops  to  aid  them,  if  living;  to  avenge  them, 
if  dead.  He  told  them  that  he  had  particularly  instructed  the  boy 


G52 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


PIONEER  PLEASURES — WINTER  STAGE  TRAVEL  BY  NIGHT. 


STIRRING  ADVENTURES  OF  KIT  CARSON. 


65  3 


to  name  the  tribe  and  the  chiefs  engaged  and  to  hurry  up  the  sol- 
diers as  rapidly  as  possible. 

Fearing  the  vengeance  that  they  felt  sure  would  follow  the  death 
of  such  a man  as  Carson,  the  Cheyennes  prudently  withdrew  and  in 
a few  days  a body  of  troops,  whom  the  boy  had  luckily  met, 
appeared  on  the  scene,  and  the  Indians  were  convinced  that  they 
had  acted  wisely  in  delaying  their  vengeance.  Keturning  to  Taos 
after  a visit  to  his  daughter,  who  had  married  in  St.  Louis,  Carson 
and  Maxwell  determined,  after  a rest  of  eighteen  years  from  trap- 
ping, to  make  an  expedition  to  the  South  Platte,  and  accordingly  they 
collected  sixteen  men  and  started.  Going  into  camp  on  that  stream, 
these  men,  all  of  whom  were  old  trappers  and  mountaineers,  had  a 
successful  season  and  at  its  close  realized  handsomely  from  their 
furs. 

Still  longing  for  excitement,  Carson  and  Maxwell  bought  several 
thousand  sheep  from  the  Navajos,  and  going  by  the  way  of  Lara- 
mie and  Salt  Lake,  crossed  into  California,  where  they  disposed  of 
the  sheep  at  enormous  prices.  In  San  Francisco,  now  a metropoli- 
tan city,  (this  was  in  1853),  Carson  found  many  old  friends,  but 
after  a short  sojourn,  he  again  set  out  for  New  Mexico. 

In  1861  he  espoused  the  cause  of  the  Union,  and  was  made  a Col- 
onel, and  brevetted  Brigadier-General.  In  1864  he  fought  the 
battle  of  the  Canon  de  Chelly  with  the  Navajos;  after  which  that 
tribe  came  in  and  surrendered.  In  1868,  the  busy  life  of  the  old 
trapper  and  mountain  man  came  to  a close.  On  the  23d  day  of  May, 
in  that  year,  his  death  was  occasioned  by  the  rupture  of  an  aneurism 
of  one  of  the  arteries  of  the  neck.  The  rifle,  with  which  he  had  won 
so  many  victories  over  savage  foes,  now  hangs  in  Montezuma  Lodge 
(Masonic)  in  Santa  Fe,  of  which  Carson  was  a member. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


UNPARALLELED  HORROR— THE  CAMP  OF  DEATH. 


THE  DONNER  PARTY A GOOD  BEGINNING THE  FIENDISH  HASTINGS A 

NEW  ROUTE FORTY  MILES  IN  THIRTY  DAYS THE  FIRST  DEATH 

OMINOUS  STORMS ENTER  THE  DESERT HOSTILE  INDIANS LOOSE 

THIRTY-SIX  CATTLE WAGONS  BREAK  DOWN THE  SNOW  STORM 

INDIANS  STEAL  CATTLE SWARMS  OF  SAVAGES THEIR  MALICE TWEN- 

TY CATTLE  KILLED  BY  INDIANS OUT  OF  FOOD FROWNING  FORTUNE 

A SCENE  OF  DESOLATION THE  BEASTLY  BRIN PRECIOUS  WATER 

CATTLE  KILLED  BY  INDIANS A NOBLE  FELLOW THE  INDIAN  VACQUEROS 

ATTEMPT  TO  CROSS  MOUNTAINS -THE  HEROIC  EDDY A TERRIBLE 

SNOW  STORM STARVATION EDDY  STARTS  FOR  RELIEF MRS.  EDDY'S 

NOTE NOBLE  SELF-SACRIFICE. 


In  all  the  annals  of  adventure  we  find  nothing  so  horrible  as  the 
sufferings  of  this  party  at  their  Mountain  Camp  in  the  Sierras ; not 
even  excepting  the  infamous  Mormon  massacre  at  the  “Mountain 
Meadows.”  Toward  the  close  of  the  summer  of  1846,  a party  of  immi- 
grants, bound  for  California,  crossed  the  great  plains  of  the  West, 
and  after  the  loss  of  nearly  half  of  their  number,  amidst  circum- 
stances of  the  greatest  suffering  and  horror,  the  survivors  succeeded 
in  reaching  their  destination. 

The  party  were  well  outfitted  with  teams,  cattle,  provisions,  etc., 
and  had  every  prospect  before  them  of  a safe  and  pleasant  voyage. 
They  had  met  with  neither  accident  nor  delay  until  their  arrival  in 
camp  on  Sweetwater  River,  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  mountains. 
Here  they  were  induced  by  an  infamous  wretch,  Lansford  W.  Has- 
tings to  take  a new  route  to  California.  What  his  object  was  in 
leading  the  party  on  to  anguish  and  death,  can  only  be  conjectured, 
but  he  pretended  to  be  thoroughly  acquainted  with  a new  route  by 
which  they  could  save  a long  detour  and  speedily  reach  their 
destination. 

Almost  at  their  outset  they  encountered  great  difficulty,  but  con- 
tinually deceived  by  the  specious  lies  of  Hastings,  they  proceeded 
on  his  route,  instead  (as  Eddy  and  several  of  the  party  suggested,) 

654 


UNPARALLELED  HORROR THE  CAMP  OF  DEATH. 


655 


of  retracing  their  way  and  taking  the  old  trail.  Before  they  reached 
the  Utah  Yalley  their  trouble  increased;  over  one  portion  of  the 
route  they  had  to  cut  out  a road,  consuming  thirty  days  in  traveling 
forty  miles.  On  the  1st  day  of  September,  at  which  time  they 
should  have  been  on  their  way  through  the  Sierras,  they  struck  the 
valley  south  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake,  and  here  were  detained  some 
time  by  the  breakage  of  a wagon,  and  the  death  of  Mr.  Hallerin. 


WILLIAM  EDDY— THE  HERO  OF  THE  DONNER  PARTY. 

Ominous  storms  to  the  west  added  to  the  baleful  auguries  of  death 
and  accident,  and  the  immigrants  hastened  forward.  Pushing  on,  the 
train  encountered  a stretch  of  country  where,  for  two  days,  they 
were  without  grass  or  water.  Here  many  of  their  cattle  perished 
and  a deep  gloom  began  to  settle  upon  the  deceived  immigrants. 
They  had  now  come  too  far  to  retreat ; their  only  course  was  to 


656 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


press  on  through  the  barren  desert,  to  whose  dangers  was  now  added 
that  of  hostile  Indians.  Moving  slowly  forward  with  their  exhausted 
teams,  they  lost  thirty-six  head  of  cattle  the  next  drive  and  the 
remainder  of  the  poor  animals  were  scarcely  able  to  move.  Here 
Mr.  Reed  cached  two  of  his  wagons  and  their  contents.  George 
Donner  and  Kiesburg  also  lost  a wagon  each.  The  wood  in  the 
wagons,  owing  to  the  heat  and  the  dryness  of  the  air,  shrank  terri- 
bly and  there  was  but  small  chance  of  any  of  them  getting  through . 

On  the  16th  they  made  six  miles  and  encountered  a severe  snow 
storm.  In  the  afternoon  Elliot  and  Graves,  who  had  been  sent 
ahead  to  find  some  stray  cattle,  met  them  with  the  welcome  informa- 
tion that  near  at  hand  was  a large  spring.  Beyond  this  another  dry 
drive  of  forty  miles  began.  They  reached  water  and  grass  on  the 
18th,  with  their  teams  terribly  exhausted,  some  of  their  cattle  having 
died  on  the  drive.  At  this  place  most  of  the  property  of  the  immi- 
grants was  cached.  Some  of  the  teams  were  here  doubled  up,  and 
they  stayed  all  of  this  day  in  camp  to  recruit.  The  journey  was 
continued  under  somewhat  more  favorable  circumstances,  until 
the  1st  of  October,  when  the  Indians  stole  a yoke  of  Graves’  cattle. 
The  savages  now  hung  in  swarms  about  them,  shooting  their  cattle, 
committing  other  depredations  and  terrifying  the  women.  On  the 
morning  of  the  12th  the  immigrants  again  started,  the  most  of  their 
cattle  having  been  killed  by  the  Indians.  During  this  day  one  of 
Eddy’s  oxen  gave  out  and  had  to  be  left.  They  reached  the  sinks 
of  Ogden  River  by  a night  drive  and  camped  there  at  midnight.  The 
next  morning  they  drove  their  cattle  out  to  graze  and  the  guard,  hav- 
ing left  them  for  a short  time,  the  Indians  killed  twenty-one  of  them, 
leaving  Eddy  and  Wolfinger  with  a single  ox  each.  Wolfinger 
wanted  to  cache  his  goods  here,  and  the  train  refusing  to  wait  on 
him,  he  with  his  friends  Rinehard  and  Spitzer  stopped.  The  two 
assistants  overtook  the  train  at  Truckee  River  three  days  later  and 
reported  that  the  Indians  had  come  down  out  of  the  hills,  killed 
Wolfinger  and  rifled  and  burned  the  wagons.  They  had  been  per- 
mitted to  escape. 

At  this  camp  Eddy  cached  everything  but  the  clothes  his  family 
had  on,  eating  the  last  of  their  provisions  that  morning.  From  the 
adjacent  hills  the  fiendish  savages  glared  upon  them,  laughing  glee- 
fully at  their  terrible  sufferings  and  distress.  Eddy  felt  tempted  to 
attack  them,  but  having  broken  the  lock  of  his  rifle  some  days 


UNPARALLELED  HORROR — THE  CAMP  OF  DEATH. 


657 


before,  was  without  a weapon.  Carrying  from  this  camp  his 
ammunition  and  three  pounds  of  loaf  sugar,  Eddy,  by  all  odds  the 
bravest  and  most  heroic  of  the  immigrants,  as  will  be  seen  hereafter, 
took  his  little  boy  in  his  arms  and  began  the  dreary  march.  His 
wife,  a noble  woman,  fit  mate  for  such  a man,  carried  their  infant 
through  this  land  of  desolation.  They  had  now  reached  the  moun- 
tains, which  were  thickly  clad  in  their  winter  garb  of  snow.  Their 
clothing  was  thin  and  worn,  their  shoes  had  been  replaced  with 
moccasins,  which  were  in  tatters.  Every  fate  seemed  to  frown 
upon  them,  but  still  they  struggled  on.  On  the  morning  of  the  14th 
they  came  to  a spouting  geyser,  which  threw  upward  a column  of 
boiling  water  to  a height  of  twenty  feet.  All  around  was  a scene  of 
desert  barrenness  sufficient  to  appal  the  stoutest  heart.  They  had 
reached  the  seat  of  extinct  volcanic  action  and  the  ground  was  rent 
into  awful  chasms  and  frowning  precipices.  Not  a bush  or  herb  was 
visible  upon  its  surface  of  ashen  lava.  Here  even  the  cactus  and 
the  sage  bush  had  vanished.  It  was  a spot  accursed  by  God.  Deso- 
lation reigned  supreme. 

At  the  geyser  Eddy  borrowed  some  coffee  from  Mrs.  Donner  and 
boiled  it  for  his  wife  and  children,  refusing  to  taste  it  himself;  it 
was  so  small  a nourishment  he  feared  to  deprive  his  dear  ones  of  a 
drop  of  it.  Leaving  the  boiling  spring,  they  traveled  until  sunset. 
Eddy’s  children  were  perishing  for  water  and  he  asked  Patrick  Brin 
for  a half  pint  to  give  them.  Brin  denied  having  any,  but  Eddy 
knew  this  to  be  false,  having  filled  a ten-gallon  cask  for  him.  Tell- 
ing him  of  his  falsehood,  Eddy  again  asked  for  water,  Brin  admitting 
that  he  had  it,  but  was  afraid  it  wouldn’t  last.  Kendered  desperate 
by  the  sufferings  of  the  children,  Eddy  told  him  that  he’d  have  the 
water  or  Brin’s  life,  and  then  helped  himself. 

They  camped  at  sunset  at  the  base  of  a line  of  sand-hills  and 
crossed  them  on  the  morning  of  the  15th,  losing  three  yoke  of  cat- 
tle from  thirst  and  fatigue.  Death  now  seemed  inevitable.  Neither 
Eddy  nor  his  wife  had  tasted  food  for  two  days  and  the  only  nour- 
ishment the  childred  had,  in  that  time,  was  thr  sugar  he  had  taken 
along.  He  tried  to  get  from  Mrs.  Graves  and  Mrs.  Brin  a small 
piece  of  meat  for  his  wife  and  children,  but  both  refused.  They 
remained  all  that  day  in  camp  to  rest  the  cattle,  some  of  which  were 
killed  in  the  afternoon  by  the  Indians.  Eddy  hearing  some  geese 
near  by,  borrowed  a gun  and  killed  nine.  Mrs.  Brin  and  Mrs. 


658 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Graves  expressed  great  admiration  at  their  fatness  and  asked  what 
he  would  do  with  so  many.  The  noble  fellow  invited  them  to  take 
what  they  wanted  of  them  and  each  of  them  took  two.  Kiesburg 
got  one  of  them. 

On  the  16th  they  again  set  out,  driving  along  the  Truckee  River. 
On  the  19th  they  met  C.  F.  Stanton,  who  had  started  on  ahead  and 
who  was  now  in  company  with  two  Indian  vacqueros , named  Salva- 
dore  and  Lewis.  They  were  seeking  lost  cattle  when  they  met 
Stanton.  They  had  turned  over  to  Stanton  a little  flour  and  dried 
meat  they  had  with  them.  On  this  day  William  Pike  was  accidently 
shot  through  the  back  by  William  Foster  and  killed.  Compared 
with  some  of  the  others,  his  was  a happy  fate.  On  the  22nd  day  of 
October  they  made  their  forty-ninth  and  last  crossing  of  the  Truckee 
River  and  encamped — as  it  was  near  sunset — on  a hill.  Here  an 
Indian  shot  nineteen  arrows  into  as  many  cattle,  but  did  not  kill 
them.  Eddy  caught  him  when  about  to  shoot  another  and  firing  at 
him  as  he  fled,  the  ball  struck  him  between  the  shoulders  and  came  out 
through  his  breast.  Uttering  his  death  whoop,  the  savage  fell  dead 
and  rolled  into  a bunch  of  willows  growing  some  distance  down  the 
bank. 

The  1st  of  November  found  them  utterly  dispirited;  the  last 
ray  of  hope  having  vanished  from  their  hearts.  On  the  12th  of 
November  the  heroic  Eddy  headed  a party  to  make  an  attempt,  (the 
second,)  to  cross  the  mountains  and  get  relief  for  those  left 
in  camp.  Forced  by  the  elements  to  again  retire,  Eddy,  the 
good  genius  of  the  immigrants,  killed  a grizzly  bear  and  some 
other  game,  but  this  proved  only  a temporary  relief.  On  the  21st 
of  November  still  another  attempt  was  made  to  obtain  relief.  A 
party  of  sixteen  men  and  six  women  started  over  the  pass,  amongst 
the  number  being  Stanton,  the  two  Indians  and  Eddy,  who  was  the 
leader.  They  reached  the  western  side  of  the  range,  but  Stanton,  in 
spite  of  Eddy’s  appeals,  refused  to  push  ahead  because  he  would 
have  to  leave  behind  seven  mules  belonging  to  Sutter. 

A terrible  snow  storm  now  began  and  their  sufferings  were 
extreme.  The  women  with  the  party  bore  the  hardships  with  great 
fortitude.  The  storm  lasted  until  the  5th  day  of  December  ana 
when  it  ceased,  the  ground  was  covered  to  the  depth  of  eight  feet. 
On  the  11th  tho  snow  again  began  to  fall.  On  the  Hth  Bayliss  'Wil- 
liams died  of  starvation  * All  w m we&lf ? On  the  Wth 


UNPARALLELED  HORROR THE  CAMP  OF  DEATH. 


659 


a party  consisting  of  William  Eddy,  William  and  Sarah  Foster, 
William  and  Mary  Graves,  Jay  and  Sarah  Fosdick,  C.  F.  Stanton, 
Lewis  and  Salvadore  (the  Indians),  Antoine,  Dolan,  William  and 
Lemuel  Murphy,  Burger,  Harriet  Pike  and  Mrs.  McCuteheon  again 
darted  on  snow  shoes  for  relief.  The  parting  between  those  noble 
>uls — Eddy  and  his  wife — was  agonizing.  Each  realized  that  they 
might  never  meet  again  and  their  parting  was  as  that  of  friends 
who  are  about  t be  separated  by  death.  At  the  outset  of  this  jour- 
ney, Burger  and  William  Murphy  were  compelled  by  weakness  to 
turn  back  to  the  cabin  camp,  the  others  went  slowly  and  mom  nfully 
forward,  reaching  the  west  side  of  the  mountain  on  the  thi  d day. 
Three  days  later  they  had  consumed  all  of  their  supplies.  On  the 
seventh  day,  in  lightening  his  bag  of  every  useless  art  cle,  Eddy 
found  about  half  a pound  of  bear’s  meat  and  a note  in  which  his 
wife  expressed  the  hope  that  it  might,  if  the  worst  came,  as  she 
feared  P would,  be  the  means  of  saving  his  precious  h e.  The  note 
was  full  of  tenderness  beyond  the  power  of  words  +o  express,  and 
now,  r ore  than  ever,  did  the  fond  husband  realize  ne  value  of  the 
treasure  he  was  about  to  lose. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


TERRIBLE  SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  DONNER  PARTY. 


CANTON  DIES  OF  STARVATION CANNIBALISM  PROPOSED VOTED  DOWN- — - 

THREE  OTHERS  DIE- A HORRIBLE  FEAST EDDY  ABSTAINS  FROM  CANNI- 
BALISM  NOBLE  WOMEN DEER  KILLED FOSDICK  DIES “THE 

CAMP  OF  DEATH’* REACH  INDIAN  VILLAGE RELIEF  PARTIES 

GLOVER  AND  EDDY  REACH  IMMIGRANTS SNOWED  UNDER THE  DEAD 

AND  DYING MRS.  REED  AND  THE  BRINS EDDY’S  WIFE  AND  CHILDREN 

DEAD AWFUL  STATE  OF  AFFAIRS APPALLING  HORRORS MRS.  DON- 

NER’S  DEVOTION A PATHETIC  SIGHT THE  APPEAL  TO  MASONRY 

ANOTHER  PARTY  TO  THE  RESCUE THE  BEASTLY  KIESBURG  GHOULISH 

FEASTS 44  STARVED  CAMP” HIDEOUS  SIGHTS SATISFIED  CANNIBALS 

CLARK,  THE  INFAMOUS  SHOEMAKER EDDY’S  STEADFAST  NOBILITY 

CONCEALED  HORRORS. 


3oon  after  the  provisions  failed,  Stanton  fell  to  the  rear  and  died 
of  starvation.  The  25th  day  of  December  came,  and  we  have  every 
reason  to  suppose  that  their’ s was  the  most  desolate  Christmas  ever 
spent.  This  day  a council  was  held  to  determine  whether  they 
should  go  on  or  return  to  their  companions  in  the  terrible  mountain 
camp.  Eddy  was  the  only  man  who  voted  to  go  through;  the 
others  refused.  Every  one  of  the  women  voted  with  Eddy.  There 
was  in  all  the  - party  one  soul  superior  to  fate,  and  their  intuition 
divined  it.  Now  came  a proposition  that  might  have  been  expected 
sooner.  It  was  proposed  to  sacrifice  one  person  that  the  others 
might  have  food.  The  opposition  to  this  measure  was  so  great  that 
it  failed  and  they  staggered  on  a few  miles  and  camped,  unable  to 
make  a fire  on  account  of  the  high  wfind. 

That  night  Dolan,  Graves  and  Antoine  perished  and  Lemuel 
Murphy  became  deranged.  Eddy  only,  of  all  the  party,  had  any 
thought  for  the  safety  of  others.  He  at  last  succeeded  in  building 
a fire  and  when  a horrible  feast  upon  the  body  of  Dolan  began,  his 
constant  soul,  sustained  him  in  his  heroic  forbearance  and  he  alone 
abstained  from  the  cannibal  banquet.  Murphy  next  died.  The 
“Camp  of  Death,”  as  this  was  called,  abounded  in  horrors.  To  the 
fortitude  of  the  six  women  Eddy  pays  tribute.  On  the  29th  the  sur- 
vivors left  the  fatal  spot  and  again  moved  forward.  The  Indians  now 

660 


TERRIBLE  SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  EONNER  TARTY.  661 

owned  that  they  had  lost  their  way.  January  4th  came,  and  not  a 
mouthful  of  food.  Eddy  now  declared  that  he  would  start  out  on  a 
hunt.  The. women  begged  him  not  to  leave  them  and  Mary 
Graves  resolutely  followed  him.  • That  night  a deer  was  killed  and 
the  two  supped  on  its  entrails,  and  the  next  day  relieved  the  rest  of 
the  party,  Fosdick  having  died  the  night  before. 

Strenghtened  by  this  food,  the  party  again  pushed  on.  The  two 
Indians,  who  had  been  threatened  with  death  by  the  cannibals,  had 
deserted  the  party  some  days  before.  The  women  were  now  left  in 
charge  of  Eddy  and  Foster,  the  latter  very  weak  and  partially  in- 
sane. After  they  had  exhausted  the  flesh  of  the  deer,  the  party 
came  across  the  trail  of  Lewis  and  Salvadore  and  Foster  overtook 
and  killed  them,  cutting  the  flesh  from  their  bones  and  drying  it. 
On  the  10th  of  January  they  came  to  an  Indian  village,  where  they 
were  kindly  welcomed  and  supplied  with  food.  The  Indians  then 
took  them  to  the  ranche  of  Colonel  M.  D.  Ritchie,  at  which  place 
Eddy  was  obliged  to  go  to  bed,  so  utter  was  his  exhaustion. 

Notified  of  the  distress  of  the  immigrants,  the  government  of  Cal- 
ifornia fitted  out  two  expeditions  to  go  to  their  relief,  but  both 
failed,  owing  to  the  depth  of  the  snow.  Finally  a party  of  seven  men 
under  charge  of  Aquilla  Glover,  accompanied  by  Eddy,  succeeded 
in  making  their  way  across  the  range  to  the  mountain  camp.  As 
they  reached  the  site  of  the  cabins  they  were  not  to  be  seen, 
nor  was  there  any  sign  of  a human  being  to  be  discovered.  As  far 
as  the  eye  could  reach  the  snow  covered  the  earth  like  a winding- 
sheet.  To  break  the  stillness  of  this  horrible  desolation,  some  of 
the  party  gave  a loud  shout.  The  effect  was  instantaneous.  Up 
from  burrows  in  the  snow,  which  had  covered  the  cabins,  crawled 
hideous  specters,  ghastly,  gaunt  and  horrible.  They  were  nothing 
but  skin  and  bone,  and  their  eyes  glittered  with  the  fires  of  insanity. 

Of  their  number,  so  they  informed  the  rescuing  party,  fourteen 
were  already  dead  and  others  so  far  gone  from  exhaustion  that  suc- 
cor had  come  too  late.  Their  sufferings  were  almost  beyond  be- 
lief. For  weeks  they  had  lived  upon  the  hides  of  bullocks  and  as 
these  had  nearly  given  out,  they  contemplated  digging  up  the  bodies 
of  their  companions  and  eating  them.  Mrs.  Reed — who  was  sharing 
Brin’s  cabin — had  for  some  time  supported  herself  and  children  by 
cracking  and  boiling  the  bones  which  the  Brins  had  scraped  clean. 
The  wife  and  children  of  the  heroic  Eddy  had  perished.  In  this 


662 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


accursed  camp  they  found  some  of  the  immigrants  praying,  while 
some  were  cursing  the  infamous  Hastings,  the  author  of  their  mis- 
fortunes,  and  others  blasphemed  and  railed  out  against  the  sacred 
majesty  of  their  Maker. 

Sympathy,  kindness  and  even  decency  had  been  banished  from 
their  hearts  by  the  demoralizing  effects  of  their  sufferings.  Unable 
to  carry  the  dead  from  the  cabins,  they  had  fastened  ropes  around 
their  necks  and  dragged  them  forth  as  they  would  the  polluted  car- 
casses of  dogs  or  wild  beasts.  Honesty,  too,  had  departed  along 
with  the  other  moral  qualities,  and  it  was  necessary  to  keep  a con- 
stant guard  over  the  supplies  that  had  been  brought.  The  poor 
wretches  actually  stole  and  ate  with  avidity  the  rawhide  strings  that 
formed  the  net-work  of  the  snow-shoes  of  the  rescuers.  When  the 
party  ventured  down  into  the  cabins  beneath  the  level  snow-field, 
the  sights  they  witnessed  are  beyond  belief,  and  so  great  was  the 
accumulated  horror  of  the  awful  scene  that  they  were  forced  to 
retire  appalled  to  the  inhospitable  but  not  revolting  surface  of  the 
frozen  snow. 

On  the  20th  of  February  three  of  the  rescuers,  Ehodes,  Mootrey 
and  Tucker,  went  to  George  Donner’s  camp,  some  eight  miles  dis- 
tant. This  party  they  found  with  but  a single  beef’s  hide  remain- 
ing. They  would  soon  have  been  reduced  to  cannibalism.  Donner 
was  perfectly  helpless,  dying  in  fact,  but  no  entreaties,  not  even  those 
of  her  husband,  could  induce  his  wife  to  leave  him  and  seek  safety 
with  Glover’s  party.  She  knew  that  she  would  perish  if  she 
remained,  but  knowing  this,  so  great  was  her  devotion  that  she 
resolved  to  stay,  thus  proving  the  strength  of  woman’s  love;  a 
treasure  beyond  all  price. 

Seven  persons  from  this  camp  returned  with  Glover’s  men  and  at 
noon  of  the  21st  this  party,  after  leaving  all  of  the  provisions  they 
could  spare  from  their  own  necessities,  set  out  on  the  return,  accom- 
panied by  twenty-three  of  the  immigrants,  mostly  women  and  chil- 
dren. It  was. agreed  that  nothing  was  to  be  told  of  the  disastrous 
voyage  of  the  outward  party  under  Eddy  and  Foster,  for  fear  they 
might  be  deterred  from  attempting  the  journey.  One  child  of  Mrs. 
Kiesburg’s  and  one  of  Mrs.  Pike’s  were  carried  by  the  men  of  the 
party.  Two  of  Mrs.  Reed’s  children  gave  out  after  going  some  twTo 
miles,  and  it  was  necessary  for  them  to  return. 


! 


TERRIBLE  SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  BONNER  FARTF.  668 


The  mother,  when  informed  that  these  two  children  must  return 
to  the  camp,  at  first  refused  to  go  on,  desiring  to  return  with 
them  and  suffer  the  others  to  go  on  to  their  father.  At  last, 
after  finding  out  that  Glover  was  a mason  and  exacting  a promise 
from  him  on  his  honor  as  a member  of  that  fraternity,  to  return 
from  Bear  River  Valley  for  her  two  children,  Mrs.  Reed  agreed  to 
go  on.  The  parting  was  heart-rending.  One  of  the  two  children, 
a little  heroine  of  eight  years,  said  to  her  mother:  “Well,  kiss  me 
good  bye.  I shall  never  see  you  again,  but  I shall  die  willingly,  if  I 
can  believe  you  will  live  to  see  papa.  Tell  him  goodbye  for  his  poor 
Patty.” 

Dissolved  in  tears,  mother  and  children  clung  to  each  other  until 
torn  apart,  and  the  sad  journey  began.  When  Glover  and  Mootrey 


LOUIS  KIESBURG — THE  CANNIBAL. 


took  the  children  back  to  Brin’s  cabin  he  was  furious,  and  would 
not  permit  them  to  enter  until  Glover  had  sworn  that  he  would 
return  immediately  upon  conveying  the  others  to  a place  of  safety. 
They  concealed  the  behavior  of  the  Brins  from  Mrs.  Reed,  as  they 
knew  she  would  return  to  them,  if  she  thought  them  exposed  to  any 
chance  of  ill  treatment. 

On  the  return  of  Glover’s  party,  they  met  with  great  privations, 
one  of  the  caches  of  provisions  having  been  found  and  eaten  by  a 
mountain  lion.  Luckily  two  men  had  come  up  from  the  settlements 
with  provisions,  fearing  there  might  be  a scarcity,  and  thus  the 
immigrants  were  enabled  to  reach  a place  of  safety.  The  next 
relieving  party  was  conducted  by  Reed  and  McCutcheon.  Happily 
Reed  found  little  Patty  and  her  brother  alive,  though  subjected  to 


664 


i 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

terrible  sufferings.  Bad  as  were  the  scenes  at  the  mountain  camp, 
on  the  visit  of  the  first  party  of  rescuers,  it  was  now  ten-fold  worse. 
The  starving  immigrants  had  became  confirmed  cannibals  and  on 
every  hand  were  to  be  seen  the  traces  of  horrid  feasts  upon  human 
flesh. 

The  beastly  German,  Kiesburg,  revelled  in  these  ghoulish  ban- 
quets and  had  eaten  the  body  of  one  of  Eddy’s  children,  when  there 
was  an  abundance  of  deer  meat  in  the  camp.  It  was  with  great  diffi- 
culty that  the  father  was  prevented  from  killing  the  miserable  brute. 
Kiesburg  on  this  and  the  subsequent  expedition  refused  to  leave 
camp.  Kis  object  in  remaining  could  only  have  been  to  continue 
his  horrid  feasts,  or  to  carry  off  the  money  and  property  of  the 
other  immigrants.  This  party  met  with  hardships  almost  as  great 
as  that  which  first  went  out  with  Eddy  and  Foster.  Getting  out  of 
food,  Reed  sent  three  men  ahead  to  get  supplies  where  they  had 
been  cached.  Pressing  slowly  and  painfully  forward,  the  rest  of 
the  party  crossed  the  Sierras  and  camped  near  the  head  of  the  Yuba 
River.  A storm  now  set  in  and  continued  for  three  nights  and  two 
days.  It  became  terribly  cold  and  all  were  in  danger  of  freezing. 
It  was  almost  impossible  to  secure  wood  enough  to  keep  up  the  fire 
and  the  thinly  clad  women  and  children  suffered  agonies.  For  two 
days  they  had  been  without  food.  When  the  storm  cleared  away, 
none  of  them  were  able  to  travel,  except  those  of  the  rescuing  party, 
Solomon  Hook  and  Patrick  Brin  and  family.  The  latter  refused  to 
move  a step,  and  Reed  and  his  two  children,  Miller,  Hook  and  the 
Californians  set  out  to  reach  the  cached  supplies.  Little  Patty  Reed 
proved  herself  a heroine  on  the  toilsome  march.  That  night 
Reed’s  party  was  joined  by  two  men  from  the  mountain  camp,  Cady 
and  Stone.  The  next  day  Reed  found  some  provisions  that  had 
been  left  by  the  three  men  who  had  been  sent  ahead.  This  was 
their  first  food  in  four  days.  Strengthened  by  this,  they  pushed  on 
and  soon  reached  the  settlements. 

Eddy  and  Foster  now  set  out  to  relieve  those  left  by  Reed,  at  the 
“Starved  Camp,”  on  his  way  out.  Here  they  were  destined  to  behold 
a spectacle  of  more  revolting  horror  than  any  which  had  greeted 
them  in  the  awful  confines  of  the  mountain  camp.  Patrick  Brin 
and  his  wife  were  found  lolling  in  the  sun,  perfectly  satisfied  with 
their  condition.  They  had  entirely  devoured  the  bodies  of  Jacob 
Ponner’s  two  children.  As  all  of  their  Own  children  were  alive,  it 


TEU1UBLE  SUFFERINGS  OF  THE  DONNER  PAUTt.  665 

Was  conjectured  that  Donner’s  had  been  killed  to  furnish  these 
loathsome  cannibals  with  food.  Lying  beside  them  was  the  body  of 
Mrs.  Graves,  nearly  all  of  the  flesh  having  been  cut  from  her  arms 
and  legs,  and  in  a vessel  then  boiling  over  the  fire,  were  found  her 
heart,  liver  and  breasts.  Beside  her  mangled  body  sat  her  little 
child  crying  bitterly.  Horror  was  here  at  its  acme.  Human  bru- 
tality and  degradation  could  go  no  further. 

Leaving  three  men  to  convey  these  miserable  beings  to  the  settle- 
ments, Eddy  and  Foster  pressed  forward  rapidly  to  the  awful  moun- 
tain camp.  Here  they  found  five  children;  one  of  Mrs.  Murphy’s, 
one  of  Jacob  Donner’s  and  three  of  George  Donner’s.  They  found 


THE  INFAMOUS  CLARK— THE  SHOEMAKER. 

here  a man  named  Clark,  a shoemaker  by  trade,  who  had  gone  out 
with  Reed,  ostensibly  for  the  purpose  of  aiding  the  immigrants,  but 
really,  as  was  afterwards  seen,  to  rob  them.  When  discovered  he 
had  a pack  of  goods  weighing  about  fifty  pounds  and  two  guns,  and 
this  he  carried  away,  leaving  a little  child  to  perish. 

Eddy  carried  Georgiana  Donner,  aged  six,  and  Hiram  Miller  bore 
from  the  camp  Eliza  Donner,  aged  four;  Thompson  carried  Fanny 
Donner,  aged  eight;  Foster  carried  Simon  Murphy,  aged  eight;  the 
infamous  Clark  left  one  of  the  little  Donners  to  a certain  death  and 
carried  off  the  stolen  plunder. 


666 


conquering  the  Wilderness. 


After  much  suffering  this  party  reached  the  settlements.  Of  the 
immigrants  thirty-six  had  succumbed  to  their  awful  privations,  while 
forty-four  lived  through  them  and  were  rescued.  The  fortitude  of 
woman  was  never  more  fully  tested  than  at  these  camps  of  horror 
and  death,  and  it  did  not  prove  wanting. 

With  the  exception  of  the  heroic  Eddy,  not  a man  in  all  that  band 
of  sufferers  displayed  as  great  endurance  or  as  active  and  undaunted 
courage  as  did  the  women  attached  to  the  ill-fated  expedition.  Of 
its  horrors  no  tongue  or  pen  has  ever  told  the  half,  and  it  is  well 
that  the  awful  depths  tp  which  human  nature,  under  these  degrading 
circumstances,  can  sink,  should  forever  remain  hidden  from  those 
who  did  not  participate  in  their  demoralization. 

To  Hastings,  to  whose  agency  the  immigrants  owed  all  of  their 
sufferings  and  misfortunes,  various  motives  have  been  attributed. 
Some  say  that  he  was  an  egotistical  idiot,  who  fancied  himself  a 
guide  and  really  believed  that  he  knew  a shorter  route  to  California 
than  that  usually  pursued  by  the  trains.  Others  say  that  he  desired 
to  lead  this  party  into  difficulties  for  the  purpose  of  robbing  it,  hav- 
ing accomplices  ready  to  aid  him.  These  suppose  that,  through 
some  miscalculation,  his  band  failed  to  come  to  his  assistance  and 
his  scheme  had  to  be  abandoned.  Others  believe  Hastings  to  have 
been  a Mormon  tool,  who  did  the  work  appointed  for  him  by  the 
leaders  of  that  church.  As  it  will  probably  never  be  known  which 
of  the  three  suppositions  is  correct,  all  have  been  placed  before  the 
reader. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


GEN.  WM.  S.  WALKER— THE  PIONEER  FILIBUSTER. 


THE  GOLDEN  TOCSIN- THE  “GREY-EYED  MAN  OF  DESTINY” DREAMS  OF 

EMPIRE  WALKER'S  BIRTH  AND  EDUCATION  IN  CALIFORNIA  

DESCRIPTION  OF  WALKER HIS  COURAGE HIS  MAGNETISM HEROIC 

WARFARE THE  MONOPOLIST,  VANDERBILT ODDS  AGAINST  THE  FILI- 
BUSTER  WALKER’S  LOSSES RESOURCES  OF  NICARAGUA SAN  JUAN 

DEL  NORTE PRODUCTIONS  OF  CENTRAL  AMERICA IN  RUINS RICH 

MINES CLIMATE INSTABILITY  OF  AFFAIRS BEAUTIFUL  SCENERY 

DENSE  FORESTS BEAUTIFUL  FLOWERS LAKES THE  NATIVES 

NATURAL  GAMBLERS FANDANGOES GAMES  OF  CHANCE COCK  FIGHT- 
ING  SUNDAY  PASTIMES. 


Amongst  the  many  adventurers,  who  flocked  to  the  land  of  the  set- 
ting sun,  when  the  golden  tocsin  rang  out  its  fascinating  chime,  none 
were  destined  to  fill  a greater  space  in  the  annals  of  their  day  than 
“Walker,  the  Filibuster,”  that  “grey-eyed  man  of  destiny,”  whose 
unbounded  ambition  dreamed  of  conquest  and  whose  indomitable 
courage  and  high  talents  almost  carved  out  for  him  an  empire 
amongst  the  Isthmian  States  of  America,  laved  by  the  waters  of  two 
mighty  oceans. 

Born  in  Nashville,  Tennessee,  on  May  8th,  in  the  year  1832,  he 
received  a European  education  and  studied  medicine,  which  profes- 
sion he  seems  not  to  have  greatly  fancied,  for  we  find  that  he  very 
early  abandoned  it  and  was  for  some  years  an  editor  in  New 
Orleans.  In  California  he  also  studied  law  and  for  a time  practiced 
that  profession  in  Maryville,  in  that  State.  Alluding  to  his  versa- 
tility, some  Englishman,  quoting  the  old  Latin  poet,  said  of  him, 
with  an  ill-natured  sneer  : 

“ Augur , Schoenobates , medicus , magus , omnia  novit ,”  which  may 
be  rather  freely  translated:  “A  Jack  of  all  trades;  good  at  none.” 

In  size  he  was  not  above  medium  height,  nor  heavily  built;  his 
hair  was  brownish  and  his  eyes  large  and  of  a clear  blueish  grey. 
They  were  his  strongest  feature,  wonderfully  piercing  and  magnetic, 
and  when  lit  up  with  the  fire  of  battle,  fairly  blazed  with  excitement. 
In  disposition  he  was  rather  secretive,  impassive  and  silent.  He  had 

667 


I 


668  CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

the  courage  of  the  pioneer  and  the  grace  of  the  dwellers  in  cities. 
His  language,  when  excited,  was  terse,  forcible  and  ready,  though  he 
could  hardly  be  called  eloquent.  His  sayings  were  epigrammatic 


GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  WALKER. 

and  for  all  of  his  imperturbility,  his  soldiers  fairly  worshipped  him 
and  he  possessed  that  talent  of  the  born  commander  that  could  carry 
his  men  into  the  most  desperate  situations  and  hold  them  there  to 


WALKER  OF  NICARAGUA THE  PIONEER  FILIBUSTER. 


669 


conquer  or  to  die,  but  never  to  give  way  to  coward  flight.  Main- 
taining a rigid  discipline,  he  did  not  lose  the  affection  of  his  men, 
for  he  held  himself  bound  to  the  same  strict  code  as  that  which  he 
enforced  with  them.  They  knew  no  danger  that  he  did  not  share; 
they  felt  no  hardship  from  which  he  shrank. 

His  warfare  was  heroic.  It  was  always  the  battle  of  the  few 
against  the  many;.the  forlorn  hope,  that  must  win,  if  win  it  did,  by 
a bravery  that  feared  no  odds  and  felt  no  diminution.  It  is  true 
they  were  giants  battling  against  pigmies — Anglo-Normans  combat- 
ting the  degenerate  scions  of  that  Latin  race,  that  makes  cruelty 
take  the  place  of  courage  and  with  numbers  and  treachery  opposes 
bravery  and  conduct — but  the  pigmies  had  the  aid  of  British  hatred 
and  the  treachery  of  that  despicable  American  monopolist,  Vander- 
bilt. They  had,  too,  the  advantage  of  constant  reinforcements, 
while  Walker  must  battle  not  only  with  his  human  foes,  but  also 
with  the  climate  of  the  country  and  its  diseases;  and  with  the 
United  States  making  every  endeavor  to  enforce  the  neutrality  laws 
and  the  British  men-of-war  continually  on  guard,  he  could 
hope  for  but  few  reinforcements.  Still,  in  every  combat,  could  be 
seen  the  superior  prowess  of  the  Americans  and  in  spite  of  num- 
bers they  won,  until  from  their  very  victories  they  had  become 
almost  annihilated. 

As  Napoleon  taught  to  the  combined  nations  of  Europe  the 
science  of  war  and  at  last  fell  beneath  their  immense  combinations 
from  want  of  fresh  material,  so  Walker  with  his  handful  of  hardy 
Americans  fought  first  against  his  insurgent  Nicaraguans  and  finally 
against  the  five  States  of  Central  America,  loosing  in  each  battle 
some  of  those  followers  he  could  not  hope  to  replace,  while  his  foes 
had  a multitude  from  which  to  recruit.  The  population  of  Nicara- 
gua, at  that  time,  was  260,000,  of  which  26,000  were  pure  whites 
(Spanish),  one-half  Spanish-Indians,  80,000  pure  Indians  and 
15,000  negroes.  This  State  was  the  natural  roadway  between  the 
oceans;  its  lake  Nicaragua  being  ninety  miles  long  and  fifty  miles 
broad,  reached,  at  its  western  extremity,  within  twelve  miles  of  the 
Pacific  and  at  its  eastern  end  within  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  of  the  Atlantic,  with  which  it  is  connected  by  the  river  San 
Juan.  At  the  mouth  of  this  river  lies  Grey  town,  or  as  the  natives 
call  it,  San  Juan  del  Norte,  from  which  the  steamers  started  on 


670 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


their  western  voyage.  Like  all  tropical  countries,  this  State  is  sub- 
ject to  long  rainy  seasons,  lasting  five  months  and  during  which  ail 
;orts  of  malarial  and  other  fevers  prevail.  Visitations  of  the  chol- 
~a  and  yellow  fever  are  also  common.  In  this  season,  except 
on  made  roads,  locomotion  by  beast  or  vehicle  is  impossible. 


BIRTHPLACE  OF  WILLIAM  S.  WALKER,  AT  NASHVILLE,  TENNESSEE. 


The  constitution  of  Nicaragua  was  that  of  all  Spanish-American 
republics — theoretically  democratic,  really  despotic;  the  president 
usually  constituting  a one-man  power,  somewhat  similar  to  that  of 
Russia.  The  Central  American  Confederacy;  consisting  of  Hondu- 
ras, 8an  Salvador!  Corta  Rioa,  Guatemala  and  Nicaragua,  was 


WALKER  OF  NICARAGUA — THE  PIONEER  FILIBUSTER. 


671 


dissolved  in  1831,  and  from  that  time  until  the  advent  of  the  Amer- 
ican filibusters  on  the  scene,  the  last  named  State  had  been  sub- 
jected to  continual  revolutions,  which  destroyed  the  commerce  and 
paralyzed  the  industries  of  the  country;  since  there  was  no  stability 
to  insure  rewards  for  energy  and  industry.  Indigo,  chocolate,  rice, 
sugar,  coffee,  tobacco  and  cotton  were  the  natural  products  of  the 
soil,  but  everywhere  pillage,  arson  and  forced  contributions  had 
kept  the  fertile  haciendas  in  crumbling  ruins ; the  disheartened  pro- 
prietors raising  barely  a sufficiency  of  Indian  corn  and  plantains  to 
eke  out  their  existences,  made  miserable  by  the  cruelty  and  rapacity 
of  the  revolutionists.  Each  of  the  inhabitants  did  raise  sufficient 
tobacco  for  his  own  consumption,  and  everybody  in  Nicaragua 
smokes,  not  excepting  the  children,  but  of  the  Rivas  chocolate — the 
finest  in  the  world — not  an  ounce  was  exported  and  her  cotton,  al- 
most equal  to  that  of  the  Sea  Islands,  was  produced  in  but  trivial 
quantities.  Their  sole  exports  were  the  hides  of  cattle  and  the 
skins  of  deer. 

Her  rich  mines  of  gold  and  silver  were  either  entirely  neglected, 
or  worked  in  such  a manner  as  to  make  them  of  little  or  no  profit. 
Her  high  7iiesas,  or  table  lands,  of  Matagalpa  and  Segovia,  pleasant 
of  climate,  salubrious  and  where  almost  every  Northern  grain  and 
fruit  could  be  grown,  were  given  over  to  desolation.  Her  forests 
of  rosewood,  mahogany  and  other  fine  woods  were  untouched  by 
the  axe  of  the  lumberman,  and  here,  as  well  as  in  court,  field  and 
mart  reigned  the  universal  apathy  engendered  by  spoliation  and 
distrust. 

No  man  labored,  when  he  knew  that  he  might  never  reap  the  bene- 
fits of  his  industry,  and  the  enforced  idleness  eat  into  the  very  life- 
blood of  the  people;  depriving  them  of  energy,  ambition  and  hope. 
Over  everything  hung  the  universal  gloom  of  ruin  and  despair. 

The  scenery  was  beautiful;  in  every  direction  loomed  up  the 
cone-shaped  summit  of  some  extinct  volcano,  whose  fiery  heart  had 
long  since  spent  its  life  in  Titanic  throes.  Amongst  these  the  giant 
Ometepe  towered  in  solitary  grandeur  far  above  his  lesser  brothers, 
his  summit  capped  in  snow,  his  sides  seared  with  the  flow  of  the 
scoriae  rivers,  that  in  the  early  dawn  of  creation  had  deluged  the 
neighboring  plain.  In  the  distance  it  looms  up  against  the  brilliant 
sky  a perfect  cone  with  fleecy  veils  of  clouds  hanging  about  its  sides, 

The  forest*  are  tangled  masses  of  glorious  flowers  of  every  gorgeous 


672 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


hue ; the  lakes  produce  a thousand  forms  of  lillies ; some  tiny  as  the 
oyster’s  smallest  pearl,  some  spreading  out  wide-lipped  and  leafed, 
as  the  queenly  cereus  that  opens  her  faithful  bosom  only  to  the 
moon  and  breathes  her  life  out  on  the  silent  night.  Gay  birds,  nat- 


A SPANISH-AMERICAN  FANDANGO. 


ure’s  living  rainbows,  flash  in  and  out  amongst  the  foliage  and  make 
the  air  a blaze  of  crimson  green  and  gold. 

The  natives  are  meek  in  manner,  graceful  in  movement,  without 
ambition,  loving  their  homes,  peaceful,  polite  and  good-natured. 


WALKER  OF  NICARAGUA — THE  PIONEER  FILIBUSTER. 


673 


They  give  way  to  but  two  excitements ; all  are  devoted  to  dancing 
and  equally  slaves  to  the  passion  for  gambling.  At  their  fandangos 
tiny  children  and  tottering  octogenarians  give  rein  to  their  love  of 
music  and  motion  and  trip  the  “light  fantastic”  with  grace  and 
agility.  The  guitar  is  the  universal  musical  instrument,  and  to  its 
strains  bare-legged  men  and  swarthy  signoritas  whirl  with  a wild  and 
untaught  grace  that  shames  the  apathetic  posturings  of  more  North- 
ern nations. 

The  Central- American  will  gamble  on  anything,  but  prefers  above 
all  other  species  of  gaming  the  cock-fight,  and  this  may  be  called  the 
great  national  sport;  its  spice  of  cruelty  rendering  it  peculiarly 
grateful  to  his  Spanish  blood.  Upon  all  days  he  is  ready  to  make  a 
main,  but  Sunday  is  the  day  generally  set  apart  for  indulgence  in 
this  pastime,  and  on  the  Sabbath,  which  we  devote  to  worship  or 
to  rest,  full  many  a cock,  gallant  of  crest  and  high  of  courage,  must 
bleed  to  make  a Spanish  holiday. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


DESCRIPTION  OF  NICARAGUA  AND  ITS  AFFAIRS. 


PRINCIPAL  CITIES STYLE  OF  BUILDINGS THE  PLAZA REVOLUTIONS 

WALKER  APPEARS  ON  THE  SCENE LEGITIMISTS  AND  DEMOCRATS THE 

MARCH  ON  REALEJO CHAMORRO  DEFEATED GRENADA  ATTACKED A 

YEAR’S  SIEGE RIVAS  TAKEN CONFISCATION AMERICAN  RECRUITS 

DESPERATE  MEN THEIR  DEXTERITY  WITH  ARMS CASTILLON  DE- 
CLARED PRESIDENT LEGITIMIST  SUCCESSES BYRON  COLE TALES  OF 

WALKER HIS  FILIBUSTERING  IN  SONORA STARVED  HEROES A DES- 
PERATE FIGHT TRIED  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO SOLICITED  TO  JOIN  CASTIL- 
LON  WALKER’S  FIRST  BATTLE NATIVES  DESERT THE  RETREAT 

TWO  DESPERADOES TREATMENT  BY  WALKER A FILIBUSTER  VICTORY. 

The  principal  cities  of  Nicaragua  are  Granada,  on  the  North  shore 
of  Lake  Nicaragua,  and  Leon,  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  north  of 
it  and  near  the  Pacific  Coast.  Both  are  built  in  the  style  peculiar 
to  Spanish- American  towns.  In  the  center  is  a large  plaza,  into 
which  all  of  the  streets  run  and  the  houses  are  massive,  built  of 
adobes  and  one  story  in  height.  This  story  is  generally  very  high, 
often  fifteen  to  twenty  feet  between  floor  and  ceiling.  The  popula- 
tion of  Granada  is  fifteen  thousand;  that  of  Leon  about  twenty 
thousand.  Between  these  two  cities  the  rivalry  has  always  been 
very  bitter,  each  striving  to  hold  the  seat  of  government  and  it  is 
to  this  rivalry  that  the  numerous  revolutions  are  mostly  due.  The 
one  which  brought  4 ‘the  grey-eyed  man  of  destiny”  upon  the  scene, 
happened  in  1854,  and  was  brought  about  as  follows:  In  the  elec- 
tion of  1850,  Fruto  Chamorro  was  elected  by  the  Granada  party  and 
began  his  term  by  banishing  Francisco  Castillon,  his  opponent,  and 
other  men  of  mark  amongst  the  Leonese  faction.  His  term  expir- 
ing in  May,  1854,  he  felt  himself  so  firmly  fixed  in  power  that  he 
declared  an  extension  of  his  term  for  an  additional  four  years. 

At  this  tyrannical  assumption  of  power,  Castillon  organized  a 
party  to  resist  the  usurper,  issued  his  proclamation  duly  and  named 
his  following  Democrats,  just  as  Chamorro  called  his  forces  Legit- 
imists. The  former,  being  out  of  power,  made  great  promises  of  lib- 
erality in  government,  firm  adherence  to  the  constitution  and  the  other 

674 


DESCRIPTION  OF  NICARAGUA  AND  ITS  AFFAIRS. 


675 


flourishes  common  to  those  who  desire  to  attract  adherents.  Though 
somewhat  too  ready  with  his  proclamations,  as  indeed  are  all  of  his 
countrymen,  Castillon  did  not  let  the  grass  grow  under  his  feet,  but 
with  a few  men  marched  on  Realejo,  a small  port  on  the  Pacific,  and 
surprised  and  captured  it.  He  next  fell  upon  Chiandaya,  a place 
oi  considerable  size,  and  having  also  captured  it,  marched  to  Leon, 


DON  FRANCISCO  CASTILLON. 


thirty  miles  distant,  where  he  was  received  with  open  arms,  and 
where  he  established  his  headquarters,  having  defeated  Chamorro  in 
its  vicinity.  This  battle  or  skirmish  was  a mere  bagatelle  and  set- 
tled nothing;  the  Legitimists  retiring  to  Granada,  the  Democrats 
occupying  Leon. 


G7G 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Here  Castillon  rested  and  recruited  for  some  time  before  march- 
ing on  Granada.  His  recruiting  was  of  the  simplest  kind.  Small 
squads  of  men  were  sent  out  in  all  instructions,  with  directions  to 
drive  up,  with  their  bayonets,  every  able-bodied  man  whom  they 
could  find.  Into  the  hands  of  these  men  was  clapped  a gun  or 
machette — a long  heavy  knife — and  behold  a recruit ! In  battle 
these  men  were  put  into  the  front  ranks  and  driven  on  by  those  who 
had  volunteered.  In  their  revolutions  it  was  a difficult  task  to  guess 
who  would  run  first,  the  front  or  rear  rank  or  the  officers,  but  if 
anybody  was  killed  it  was  sure  to  be  some  of  those  who  were  driven 
by  their  comrades  like  sheep  to  the  slaughter. 

With  his  volunteers  and  recruits  Castillon  now  moved  on  Granada, 
which  Chamorro  had  fortified.  These  cities  are  easily  fortified  as 
follows:  All  of  the  streets  leading  out  of  the  plaza  are  heavily 
barricaded  and  these  barricades,  with  the  walls  of  the  houses  sur- 
rounding the  square,  form  a very  snug  fort  when  the  assailants  are 
Spanish-Americans.  Having  some  four  cannons  each,  twelve  and 
twenty-four  pounders, the  two  parties  peppered  away  for  almost  a year 
and  nearly  destroyed  the  city,  without  damaging  each  other.  Cas- 
tillon  detached  a party  during  this  time  to  take  Rivas  and  this  was 
done  without  bloodshed,  most  of  the  citizens,  being  adherents  of 
Chamorro,  having  fled.  The  goods  of  these  were  seized,  advertised 
and  sold.  Of  those  Legitimists  who  remained,  forced  loans  were 
demanded  and  obtained.  This  style  of  contribution  worked  badly 
for  the  giver,  as  his  party,  when  they  obtained  possession  again, 
would  demand  of  him  double  the  amount  his  enemies  had  forced  him 
to  disgorge,  as  a punishment  for  aiding  the  traitors. 

At  San  Juan  del  Sur  and  Virgin  Bay,  the  Democrats  had  noticed 
the  men  of  the  North,  “bearded  like  pards,  swearing  strange  oaths” 
and  swaggering  fearlessly  amongst  their  puny  countrymen,  and  they 
determined,  if  possible,  to  enlist  some  of  them  in  their  cause  to  go  up 
against  Granada.  Offering  one  hundred  dollars  a month  and  com- 
missions as  captains  and  colonels,  they  secured  some  dozen  or  fif- 
teen of  these  sturdy  men  from  Mississippi,  Kentucky  and  Missouri, 
some  of  whom  had  fought  with  Taylor,  “the  rough  and  ready,”  at 
Buena  Vista  and  all  of  whom  were  ready  at  any  time  to  assert  their 
ability  to  “whip  their  weight  in  wild  cats.” 

These  Nicaragua  colonels  and  captains,  on  their  arrival  at  Gra- 
nada, soon  convinced  the  Legitimists  that  it  was  unsafe  to  expose 


DESCRIPTION  OF  NICARAGUA  AND  ITS  AFFAIRS. 


G77 


themselves  as  they  had  heretofore  done,  for  with  their  trusty  rifles 
they  began  picking  off  their  enemies  with  as  little  compunction  as  if 
they  had  been  squirrels  or  wolves.  Recklessly  clambering  over 
house  tops  or  boldly  dashing  up  to  the  barricades,  these  hardy 
Americans  taunted  the  Legitimists  with  their  cowardice  in  not  com- 
ing out  to  fight  like  men,  and  as  soon  as  one  exposed  the  slightest 
part  of  his  person,  a ball  was  planted  in  it  and  amidst  the  volley, 
which  would  be  poured  upon  him,  the  American  would  proceed 
coolly  to  reload.  A few  other  Americans,  picked  up  along  the  Tran- 
sit Route,  aided  the  Democrats  in  the  capture  of  San  Carlos,  a town 
situated  at  the  point  where  Lake  Nicaragua  debouches  in  the  river 
San  Juan,  and  also  Castillo  Viejo,  a strong  post. 

In  view  of  his  successes,  Castillon  was  next  declared  president  and 
Leon  wTas  made  the  seat  of  government.  Other  State  officers  were 
appointed  and  matters  looked  decidedly  blue  for  the  Legitimists 
cooped  up  in  Granada,  until  by  a vigorous  move  they  retook  San 
Carlos  and  were  thus  enabled  to  obtain  a supply  of  ammunition  from 
Jamaica.  The  siege  of  Granada  was  raised,  though  the  Democrats 
had  fully  fifteen  hundred  men,  while  the  adherents  of  Chamorro 
numbered  about  one  thousand.  On  the  retreat,  the  former  were 
attacked  at  Masaya  and  part  of  them  taking  refuge  in  a church,  a 
desperate  fight  ensued,  in  which  three  hundred  men  were  killed. 
This  much  by  way  of  preface. 

While  the  Democrats  held  the  Transit  Route  firmly  they  had  opened 
negotiations  with  Walker,  then  residing  in  San  Francisco,  and  had 
made  him  liberal  offers  in  the  way  of  land  grants  for  his  services 
and  those  of  any  Americans  he  might  be  able  to  bring  to  their  aid. 
They  had  first  heard  of  Walker  while  enlisting  Americans  for  the 
siege  of  Granada.  A mining  expert,  named  Byron  Cole,  was  travel- 
ing through  Central  America  looking  for  mines  for  an  American 
company.  He  had  known  Walker  in  San  Francisco  and  knew  of 
his  desperate  attempt  to  filibuster  Lower  California  and  Sonora  in 
the  autumn  of  1853. 

He  had  heard  Walker  talk  of  the  golden  empire  he  intended  to. 
found  in  some  of  the  Spamsh-American  States  and  had  himself 
become  an  enthusiast  on  the  subject.  He  had  heard  of  Walker’s 
heroic  attempt  already  alluded  to  and  felt  that  he  was  destined  to 
achieve  a glorious  name  and  this,  he  thought,  would  be  an  opportune 
opening  for  him.  The  raid  on  Sonora  had  failed,  it  was  true,  but 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


67°) 

that  was  inevitable  from  the  first.  Leaving  San  Francisco  in  a light 
schooner,  with  some  fifty  followers,  Walker  landed  at  a small  port 
on  the  Pacific  Coast  of  Lower  California.  Here  he  met  with  a feeble 
resistance  and  marching  into  the  interior,  he  invaded  Sonora  and 
presented  the  singular  spectacle  of  an  invasion  failing  for  the  want 
of  foes. 


COLONEL  BYRON  COLE. 


Pressing  on  through  sparsely  settled  valleys  and  inhospitable 
deserts,  he  was  conquered  by  the  desolation  everywhere  prevalent. 
Without  supplies  of  food  and  unable  to  find  subsistence  in  the 
country,  his  followers  soon  become  a ragged  and  worn  out  lot  of 
half-starved  specters  who  had  easily  brushed  away  every  one  of  their 


DESCRIPTION  OF  NICARAGUA  AND  ITS  AFFAIRS.  679 

outnumbering  foes,  but  were  unable  to  contend  against  the  thirst  and 
famine  of  the  desert  and  at  last,  with  starved  and  wasted  forms, 
shoeless  and  nearly  naked,  their  feet  lacerated  with  the  sharp  rocks 
and  their  hands  mangled  with  thorns  and  cacti,  they  staggered  across 
the  frontier  of  Sonora  into  the  golden  State,  sweeping  from  their 
pathway  at  one  wild,  reckless  charge  three  hundred  Mexican  cav- 
alry who  had  been  sent  to  intercept  them.  They  were  ragged,  worn, 
starved,  parched  with  tropic  heat  and  burning  fever,  but  they  had 
the  courage  of  their  pioneer  sires  that  never  wavered,  and  stagger- 
ing onward  against  the  fresh  troops  of  the  Mexicans,  six  times  their 
number,  they  stood  once  more  upon  American  soil,  while  their 
scattered  enemies  fled  in  panic-stricken  rout.  Arrested  in  San  Fran- 
cisco for  violation  of  the  neutrality  laws  of  the  United  States,  he 
defended  his  own  cause  and  was  triumphantly  acquitted. 

This  was  the  man  to  whom  the  Democratic  party  in  Nicaragua 
offered,  in  lieu  of  money — which  they  did  not  have  to  give — fifty- 
two  thousand  acres  of  land,  if  he  should  lead  them  on  to  victory. 
Confident  of  his  ability,  in  the  then  existing  state  of  public  feeling, 
to  escape  the  penalties  for  infringing  the  neutrality  laws,  he  openly 
solicited  recruits  and  with  fifty-six  men  set  sail  at  night  to  avoid 
arrest  by  the  United  States  authorities.  By  good  luck  he  escaped 
the  officials,  and  some  time  in  May  landed  at  Realejo  and  marched 
to  Leon,  the  Legitimists  being  terribly  frightened  by  the  arrival  of 
this  diabolo  Americano. 

At  the  siege  of  Granada,  they  had  felt  the  difference  between  the 
reckless  daring  and  steady  aim  of  these  Western  adventurers, 
and  the  enervated  conduct  of  their  native  foes,  and  they  were  in  a 
state  of  panic  almost  pitiable.  In  order  to  relieve  their  overbur- 
dened feelings  they  issued  several  wordy  pronunciamentos,  calling 
on  the  yeomanry  to  “rise  in  their  wrath  and  drive  the  American 
invader  from  the  sacred  soil  of  Nicaragua.”  Fearing  that  the  Ameri- 
cans  would  do  fully  one-half  of  the  driving,  the  yeomanry  very  wisely 
forbore  to  rise,  and  Walker  remained  at  Leon  long  enough  to  obtain 
an  intelligent  idea  of  the  situation.  Seeing  the  strength  of  Rivas  as 
a strategetic  point,  he  determined  to  retake  it,  about  the  last  of  June. 
Leaving  Realejo  in  three  small  vessels, Walker  landed  his  Americans 
and  two  hundred  native  troops  at  San  Juan  del  Sur  and  marched 
thence  upon  Rivas,  some  twenty-five  miles  distant.  The  people  of 
Rivas  had  been  told  by  Chamorro  that  the  Americans  would  kill  and 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


680 


eat  all  of  them  if  they  surrendered,  and  knowing  that  no  worse  fate 
could  befall  them,  if  taken  in  arms,  they  prepared  for  a vigorous 
reception. 

In  this  first  battle  upon  the  soil  of  Nicaragua,  Walker  was  made 
acquainted  with  the  cowardly  and  treacherous  disposition  of  his 
native  troops,  for,  on  leading  a furious  charge  upon  the  works,  he 
found  himself  supported  only  by  his  Americans;  the  two  hundred 
natives  having  fled  at  the  first  fire.  Within  the  fortifications  were 
some  four  or  five  hundred  Legitimists,  but  nothing  daunted  the  Fili- 
busters sprang  steadily  forward  and  took  possession  of  a house 
which  commanded  the  fort.  Here  they  fought  fiercely,  their  steady 


walker’s  fleet  leaving  re  ale  jo. 


aim  making  frightful  havoc  among  the  Legitimists.  The  fight  con- 
tinued  until  the  Filibusters  ran  short  of  ammunition,  when  the  Legi- 
timists set  fire  to  the  house  and  forced  them  to  retreat.  Sullenly 
falling  back  to  San  Juan  del  Sur  they  were  not  followed  by  their 
antagonists,  who  feared  to  risk  a fight  without  the  protection  of  their 
fortifications.  At  this  point  the  Filibusters  found  a schooner  and 
embarked  for  Kealejo.  In  the  action  Walker  had  but  six  men 
killed;  the  Legitimists,  seventy.  All  of  the  latter  were  shot  in  the 
head.  While  lying  at  San  Juan  del  Sur,  two  American  desperados, 
not  belonging  to  Walker’s  party,  set  fire  to  a large  wooden  build- 
ing, hoping  to  burn  the  town,  so  that  they  might  rob  it.  Coming  on 


DESCRIPTION  OF  NICARAGUA  AND  ITS  AFFAIRS 


681 


board  the  schooner,  they  boasted  of  their  act,  thinking  that  the  Fili- 
busters would  join  with  them.  Of  these  men  Walker  determined  to 
make  an  example,  and  there  being  no  civil  authorities  to  whom  he 
could  hand  them  over,  he  tried  them  by  a court-martial  and  sen- 
tenced them  to  be  shot. 

They  were  desperados  of  the  worst  type ; halting  at  neither  arson 
nor  murder  to  accomplish  their  purposes,  but  they  were  desperately 
brave  and  though  they  knew  the  men  who  had  doomed  them,  yet 
they  determined  to  escape.  Rushing  to  a small  boat  that  hung  at 
the  schooner’s  side,  one  of  them  cut  it  loose  and  springing  into  it, 
pulled  hurriedly  for  the  shore. 


PLAZA  WHERE  CORRAL  AND  SALAZAR  WERE  EXECTTED. 


Waiting  until  he  had  passed  from  the  long  shadows  of  the  vessel 
into  the  bright  moonlight,  the  guard  fired  and  with  a yell  half  agony 
and  half  defiance,  he  leaped  into  the  air  and  sank  beneath  the  still 
waters.  The  other,  nothing  daunted  at  the  ill  success  of  his  com 
rade,  waited  until  taken  ashore  and  then,  breaking  from  the  guard . 
dashed  into  a dense  thicket  and  escaped. 

Shortly  before  this,  Chamorro  had  died  and  Corral  was  now  at 
the  head  of  the  Legitimist  faction.  Like  his  predecessor  he  seemed 
inclined  to  make  no  offensive  movements  and  Walker,  having 
recruited  his  force  to  seventy-five  Americans  and  two  hundred  native 
troops,  again  landed  at  San  Juan  del  Sur  and  marched  on  Virgin 


082 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Bay ; at  which  point  he  was  attacked  by  a vastly  superior  force  under 
General  Guardiola,  one  of  Corral's  lieutenants.  The  battle  raged 
for  hours;  the  Filibusters  making  charge  after  charge,  cutting  down 
their  foes  with  swords  and  even  Bowie-knives,  so  fiercely  did  they 
press  them.  Had  they  not  run  short  of  ammunition  early  in  the 
action,  it  would  have  been  more  speedily  decided;  as  it  was,  after 
three  hours  of  incessant  charging  upon  the  partly  intrenched  natives, 
the  Americans  drove  them  from  the  town  with  terrible  loss.  On  the 
part  of  the  Filibusters  two  Americans  and  six  natives  were  killed 
and  many  wounded.  Here  brave  Bob  Sweeny,  afterwards  so  noted 
as  a Missouri  guerilla,  lost  his  arm. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


SUCCESS  OF  THE  FILIBUSTERS. 


RECRUITS  FOR  WALKER CAPTURES  GRANADA THE  RAVAGES  OF  THE  CHOL- 
ERA  OFFERED  THE  PRESIDENCY REFUSES COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 

A CONSOLIDATED  GOVERNMENT A DIVISION  OF  OFFICES CORRAL’S 

TREACHERY PRESIDENT  RIVAS THE  FIRST  NEWSPAPER A BONUS  TO 

IMMIGRANTS COSTA  RICA BRITISH  INTRIGUES VANDERBILT,  THE 

CORMORANT COSTA  RICAN  BRUTALITY MOVEMENT  ON  RIVAS DES- 
PERATE FIGHTING RECOGNIZED  BY  THE  UNITED  STATES STEAMERS 

SEIZED PLOT  AGAINST  WALKER A NEW  ELECTION WALKER  PRESI- 
DENT  SALAZAR  FLIES  TO  SAN  SALVADOR CAPTURED  ON  THE  BAY  OF 

FONSECA DELIVERED  TO  WALKER TRIED  AT  GRANADA FOUND 

GUILTY EXECUTED. 


After  the  combat  at  Yirgin  Bay,  Walker  returned  to  San  Juan 
and  obtained  some  recruits  from  the  stream  of  passengers  who  were 
continually  crossing  the  isthmus.  In  addition  to  these  he  obtained 
some  reinforcements  from  San  Francisco,  and  by  the  15th  of  Octo- 
ber he  had  a force  of  two  hundred  Americans  and  two  hundred  and 
fifty  natives.  Could  he  at  this  time  have  obtained  as  many  as  one 
thousand  Americans,  all  of  his  after-difficulties  would  have  been 
avoided,  since  he  would  have  been  enabled  to  have  crushed  out  any 
opposition  before  it  had  time  to  make  head.  As  it  was  he  did  not 
despair,  but  making  a feint,  as  if  he  intended  to  march  on  Rivas, 
and  taking  one  of  the  Transit  Company’s  steamers  at  Yirgin  Bay, 
he  steamed  rapidly  to  within  two  miles  of  Granada  and  hurriedly 
disembarking,  marched  on  that  city.  As  he  anticipated,  Corral, 
deceived  by  his  movements,  had  sent  most  of  his  forces  to  Rivas, 
and  with  fierce  cheers  his  men  rushed  up  to  and  over  the  fortifica- 
tions, the  Legitimists  making  but  a feeble  defence,  and  the  Filibus- 
ters were  in  possession  of  the  city.  Instead  of  the  scenes  of 
outrage,  murder  and  pillage,  which  the  inhabitants  had  been  taught 
to  expect,  if  the  Americans  captured  the  city,  all  was  order  and 
quiet.  Holding  his  followers  with  an  iron  hand,  Walker  permitted 
no  license  and  at  once  issued  a proclamation  inviting  all  citizens  to 
return  to  their  homes  and  promising  protection  to  life  and  property. 

683 


684 


CONQUERING  TIIE  WILDERNESS. 


In  July  and  August  the  cholera  had  raged  in  Nicaragua,  and  San 
Juan  del  Sur,  Virginia  Bay  and  Masaya  were  almost  depopulated 
The  last  place  had  lost  fully  one-third  of  its  ten  thousand  inhabit- 
ants. Amongst  the  victims  was  Castillon,  upon  whose  demise  the 
Presidency  had  been  offered  to  Walker  and  by  him  had  been  very 
wisely  refused.  His  place  was  at  the  head  of  the  army  and  he 


walker’s  parting  from  his  mother. 


knew  it.  Corral  still  remained  at  Rivas,  but  Walker  could  at  any 
time  capture  the  city.  He  preferred,  however,  to  treat  with  him  for 
an  adjustment  of  all  difficulties,  and  since  he  was  the  victorious  party, 
he  could  afford  to  make  overtures  to  that  effect.  Accordingly  he  pre- 
vailed on  Colonel  Wheeler,  American  Minister  in  Nicaragua,  to  pro- 
ceed to  Rivas  for  that  purpose.  On  his  arrival  he  was  held  a close 


SUCCESS  OF  THE  FILIBUSTERS. 


685 


prisoner  by  the  foolish  Corral,  and  not  until  Walker  sent  a sloop 
with  a few  pieces  of  artillery  and  fired  upon  the  town,  did  he  come 
to  his  senses.  He  then  agreed  to  treat  and  visited  Walker  in 
Granada. 

On  parting  from  his  mother  when  but  a youth,  Walker  had  told 
her  that  he  would  some  day  found  a State  and  his  prophecy  was 
now  fulfilled.  Rivas  was  nominally  President  of  Nicaragua,  but  as 
Walker’s  arm  had  rescued  the  State  from  anarchy,  so  his  brain 
shaped  its  destinies  and  moulded  its  polity. 

A consolidation  of  the  two  governments  was  now  agreed  upon, 
and  here  Walker  showed  that  his  statesmanship  was  equal  to  his 
military  genius,  for  instead  of  taking  advantage  of  his  power  and 
ousting  the  Legitimists,  he  divided  the  offices  fairly  between  the  two 
factions,  himself  retaining  command  of  the  army.  The  following 
were  the  heads  of  the  departments:  Don  Patricio  Rivas,  President; 
General  William  Walker,  Commander-in-Chief;  General  Maximo 
Xeres,  Minister  of  State;  General  Ponciano  Corral,  Minister  of 
War;  Colonel  Parker  H.  French,  Minister  of  Hacienda;  Don  Fer- 
min  Ferrer,  Minister  of  Public  Credit. 

At  the  very  outset  of  his  attempts  at  pacification,  Walker  again 
met  with  a specimen  of  Spanish  falsehood  and  treachery.  Corral, 
in  a few  days  after  the  treaty  was  concluded  and  the  officers  of  the 
new  government  installed,  was  detected  in  a treasonable  correspond- 
ence with  dissatisfied  Legitimists  and  as  his  offence  was  flagrant 
and  the  proof  ample,  the  Filibuster  determined  to  make  an  example 
of  him  and  after  a fair  and  open  trial  by  court-martial,  he  was  shot 
on  the  plaza  of  Granada  in  the  presence  of  the  whole  army. 

The  new  government  had  been  promptly  acknowledged  by  Col. 
Wheeler,  and  the  captain  of  a United  States  sloop-of-war  then  lying 
in  the  harbor  of  San  Juan  del  Sur,  paid  a visit  to  President  Rivas. 
Like  a true  newspaper  man  and  American  citizen,  Walker  now 
started  a newspaper,  “El  Nicaraguense,”  (The  Nicaraguan),  one 
half  of  which  was  printed  in  English,  the  other  in  Spanish.  This 
was  issued  weekly  and  was  quite  a creditable  affair.  Rivas  was 
advised  by  Walker  to  offer  a bonus  of  land  to  American  immigrants 
and  accordingly  advertisements  were  sent  out  offering  to  single  immi- 
grants two  hundred  and  fifty  acres  of  land  each,  and  to  heads  of 
families  three  hundred  and  fifty  acres. 


686  CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 

When  approached  for  recognition  of  the  new  government 
action  of  the  States  of  the  former  Confederation  was  as  follows : 
Guatemala  parleyed  and  hesitated;  San  Salvador  did  likewise; 
Honduras  promptly  recognized  it  and  Costa  Rica  refused  to  do  so. 


CASTILLO  VIEJO. 


Costa  Rica  even  determined  to  raise  an  army  to  expel  the  Americans 
from  the  territory  of  Nicaragua,  though  what  right  that  State  had 
to  interfere  in  the  affairs  of  its  neighbor,  a careful  reading  of  inter- 
national  law  fails  to  inform  us.  It  is  more  than  likely  that  the  British, 


SUCCESS  OF  THE  FILIBUSTERS. 


G87 


who  in  1848  had  endeavored  to  obtain  some  footing  on  the  Isthmus 
and  had  failed,  were  jealous  of  the  success  of  the  Americans  and 
determined  to  overwhelm  them  by  secret  intrigues. 

Another  inimical  influence  should  be  here  explained.  This  was 
the  Transit  Company  already  referred  to.  When  the  rush  to  Cali- 
fornia began,  the  Isthmian  route  was  soon  ascertained  to  be  the 
shortest,  and  the  right  to  convey  passengers  and  goods  over  this 
route  was  leased  to  Vanderbilt  and  Company  for  the  term  of  ninety 
years.  For  this  privilege  the  Company  was  to  pay  ten  thousand 
dollars  down  and  ten  per  cent,  yearly  of  their  profits.  Once  estab- 
lished in  the  route,  these  cormorants  paid  neither  bonus  nor  per 
centage,  though  their  extortionate  charges  fell  but  little  if  anything 
short  of  robbery.  With  this  infamous  corporation  Walker  was 
destined  soon  to  come  in  fatal  conflict. 

When  the  Costa  Ricans  began  their  war-like  preparations,  Walker 
detached  some  three  hundred  men  under  Colonel  Schlessinger,  who 
had  operated  with  Kossuth  in  Hungary.  This  was  an  unfortunate 
selection  for,  on  meeting  an  overwhelming  force  of  Costa  Ricans 
near  Guanacaste,  Schlessinger  was  first  to  suggest  flight,  while  his 
hardy  Americans  were  preparing  for  a charge.  Disheartened  by 
the  cowardice  of  their  commander,  the  Filibusters  were  overpowered 
and  forced  to  retreat,  loosing  nineteen  prisoners,  seventeen  of  whom 
the  cowardly  Costa  Ricans  butchered  in  cold  blood  after  the  battle. 
Flushed  with  success,  the  Costa  Ricans  endeavored  to  take  posses- 
sion of  the  Transit  Route,  but  by  swift  marches,  Walker  threw  gar- 
risons into  the  two  most  important  pests,  Castillo  Viejo  and  Hibb’s 
Point,  and  returned  to  Virgin  Bay,  intending  to  wait  developments. 
Finding  the  enemy  fortified  there  and  also  at  Rivas  and  San 
Juan  del  Sur,  he  returned  to  Granada  and  after  a short  rest, 
moved  against  Rivas,  on  the  11th  of  April,  where  he  found  the  Costa 
Ricans  strongly  entrenched  and  in  greatly  superior  numbers.  Here, 
after  a series  of  assaults  characterized  by  desperate  valor,  and  in 
which  the  impassive  Walker  always  led  the  van,  they  were  finally 
beaten  off  with  a loss  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  men.  In  then- 
assaults,  the  Filibusters  charged  up  to  the  works  of  the  Costa  Ricans 
and  across  the  ditch  fought  like  tigers,  but  all  attempts  to 
scale  the  works  were  unavailing,  so  thick  were  the  bristling  bayonets 
and  machettes  of  their  foes  as  to  form  a solid  line  of  steel  through 
which  no  living  thing  could  pass.  Standing  just  outside  of  the 


G88 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


ditch,  the  Filibusters  poured  rifle  and  pistol  balls  with  unerring  aiiv 
into  the  thick  masses  of  the  natives,  but  as  fast  as  one  fell  another 
was  driven  up  to  his  place.  All  the  while  the  little  band  was 


A COSTA  RICAN  CAVALRYMAN. 


exposed  to  a perfect  storm  of  bullets.  In  this  action  the  Costa 
Ricans  lost  over  four  hundred  men,  about  three  times  as  many  as 
the  Filibusters,  and  so  terrified  were  they  for  fear  that  Walker 


SUCCESS  OF  THE  FILIBUSTERS. 


689 


might  return  with  reinforcements,  that  they  hastily  abandoned  the 
town  before  the  Filibusters  had  got  five  miles  on  their  retreat. 

Quite  a number  of  reinforcements  for  Walker  began  to  arrive, 
and  in  May  his  government  was  recognized  by  the  Government  of 
the  United  States,  Franklin  Pierce  occupying  the  presidential  chair. 
At  this  time  the  Transit  Company  was  indebted  to  the  State  of 
Nicaragua,  in  the  sum  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars, 
and  showing  no  evidences  of  an  intention  to  pay  this  debt,  Walker 
seized  their  steamers  and  sold  their  privilege  to  a new  company  for 
the  sum  of  four  hundred  thousand  dollars.  This  made  him  an 


BIRTHPLACE  OF  SCHLESSINGER. 

implacable  enemy.  Vanderbilt  was  a niggardly  miser:  he  would 
deny  money  to  charity,  to  suffering,  to  religion  and  to  want,  but  he 
could  relinquish  even  the  beloved  dollar  in  behalf  of  revenge. 

Salazar,  seemingly  a firm  friend  of  Walker,  had  been  appointed 
Minister  of  War  when  Corral  was  shot,  but  giving  way  to  his  natural 
treachery,  and  no  doubt  instigated  by  British  influence  and  prob- 
ably by  that  of  Vanderbilt,  he,  in  conjunction  with  Rivas,  now 
determined  to  throw  Walker  over  and  seize  the  reins  of  government 
themselves.  With  this  purpose  in  view,  they  stole  away  to 
Leon  and  declared  the  seat  of  government  moved  thither.  If  they 
thought  that  this  move  would  disconcert  the  fearless  Filibuster, 


690 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


they  reckoned  without  their  host,  for  Walker  immediately  pro- 
claimed them  traitors  and  ordered  a new  election,  which  resulted  in 
his  being  made  president. 

Salazar  now  hastened  toward  San  Salvador  for  the  purpose  of 
stirring  up  the  people  of  that  State  against  the  Americans,  but 
being  captured  while  on  that  errand  by  a Filibustering  schooner  on 
the  Bay  of  Fonseca,  he  was  taken  to  Granada  and  delivered  to 
Walker.  He  was  at  once  tried  for  his  treason  to  the  State  in  inciting 
armed  bodies  of  men  to  invade  it,  and  being  found  guilty,  he  was 
taken  on  the  plaza  and  shot ; a fate  which  he  richly  merited  for  his 
ingratitude  toward  his  friend,  as  well  as  his  treason  to  the  State. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


WALKER  BATTLES  AGAINST  DESPERATE  ODDS. 


A STRONG  COMBINATION LEON  OCCUPIED THE  BRAYE  M ’DONALD 

AN  IMPREGNABLE  FORTRESS COLONEL  COLE A HOPELESS  COMBAT 

DEATH  OF  COLE ALLIES  ATTACKED FURIOUS  CHARGE UNWEL- 
COME NEWS FILIBUSTERS  WITHDRAW AT  GRANADA SWARMING 

ALLIES DRIVEN  BY  WALKER NUMBER  OF  THE  ALLIES A BRUTAL 

SOLDIERY MURDER  OF  NON-COMBATANTS OTHER  BATTLES A FILI- 
BUSTER FAILURE OVERWHELMING  NUMBERS THE  TORCH LEON- 

ESE  OUTRAGES THE  GALLANT  HENNINGSEN A FORLORN  HOPE 

A BAND  OF  HEROES SURVIVORS  BUTCHERED PURSUIT  OF  HENNING- 
SEN  CUT  OFF SEIZES  A CHURCH STERN  MUSIC AN  UNPARAL- 
LELED DEFENSE THE  DEADLY  BOWIE-KNIFE THE  FLAG  OF  TRUCE 

A MONTH’S  SIEGE FILIBUSTER  SALLIES ALLIES  RETREAT 

RIVAS  TAKEN. 


Fearing  that  if  Walker  were  left  in  undisturbed  possession  of 
Nicaragua,  an  American  occupation  of  the  entire  Isthmus  might 
eventually  come  about,  all  of  the  other  States  of  the  former  Con- 
federation now  combined  against  the  Filibusters.  The  allies  crossed 
the  Bay  of  Fonseca  and  occupied  Leon  about  the  last  of  July  and 
there  remained  for  two  months,  fearing  to  advance  on  the  inferior 
forces  of  the  Americans.  About  this  time  a handfull  of  Filibusters 
under  McDonald,  attacked  on  the  5th  of  September  a large  force  of 
Costa  Ricans  who  were  fortified  in  the  Rancho  San  Jacinto.  Dash- 
ing bravely  up  against  the  thick  walls  of  the  adobe  building,  they 
thrust  their  guns  and  pistols  through  the  port-holes  and  dozens  of  its 
defenders  fell.  While  these  men  drove  the  natives  from  the  ports, 
their  comrades  endeavored  to  beat  in  the  heavy  doors.  These  had 
been  nailed  up,  secured  with  chains  and  the  deep  embrasures  piled 
full  of  bales  of  bullock  hides,  so  that  the  battering  rams  made  no 
impression  upon  them. 

Forced  to  withdraw  from  the  hopeless  contest,  they  were  rein- 
forced by  a larger  party,  under  command  of  Colonel  Byron  Cole, 
but  were  still  in  vastly  inferior  numbers  to  their  foes.  On  the  16th 
day  of  September  they  again  attacked  the  Rancho,  which  had  been 
greatly  strengthened  in  the  meantime.  It  was  but  a renewal  of  the 

691 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


692 

same  hopeless  combat,  characterized  on  the  part  of  the  Filibusters 
by  desperate  courage  and  reckless  exposure.  But  the  courage  of 
the  demi-gods  could  not  avail  against  this  adobe  building,  which  ten 
Americans  could  have  held  against  the  combined  Confederation,  and 
at  last  the  Filibusters  withdrew,  having  lost,  amongst  others,  the 
gallant  Cole,  one  of  Walker’s  most  trusted  officers.  Directing  the 
movements  of  his  men,  he  was  shot  while  endeavoring  to  force  the 
door  of  the  Rancho. 

Seeing  that  he  would  be  .obliged  to  concentrate  his  small  forces,  if 
he  did  not  wish  to  be  cut  to  pieces  in  detail,  Walker  removed  his 
garrisons  from  Managua,  falling  back  on  Masaya  and  from  here 
retreating  a few  miles,  hoping  to  draw  after  him  the  masses  of  the 
enemy,  so  that  he  might  give  them  battle  in  the  open  held.  Out- 


A NICARAGUAN  MANSION. 


numbering  him  four  to  one,  the  allies  halted  at  Masaya  and  Walker 
seeing  that  if  he  would  bring  about  a battle  at  all,  he  milst  attack 
them  in  the  fortifications  at  that  place,  turned  about  and  with  not 
over  five  hundred  men  advanced  to  the  assault.  Every  advantage 
of  position  and  numbers  was  in  favor  of  the  allies,  but  Walker  dis- 
lodging them  from  the  suburbs,  drove  them  swiftly  through  the  town, 
his  rifles  doing  terrible  execution  in  their  flying  ranks. 

Determined  to  expose  his  few  men  as  little  as  possible,  he  made 
one  furious  charge  upon  their  works  and  finding  them  too  strong  to 
be  taken  by  assault,  he  began  to  run  a mine  under  the  fort  and  his 
efforts  were  just  about  to  be  crowned  with  success,  when  an  express 
came  with  the  news  that  a large  body  of  the  allies  were  at  Granada 
and  its  little  garrison  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  men  were  unable  to 


WALKER  BATTLES  AGAINST  DESPERATE  ODDS. 


693 


withstand  so  large  a force  much  longer.  Another  day  would  have 
given  him  success;  the  fort  taken  at  a great  loss  to  the  allies,  they 
would  have  been  willing  to  treat  and  Walker’s  success  would  have 
been  assured,  but  the  delay  was  too  dangerous  and  with  a heavy 
heart  he  drew  off  his  men  and  by  a swift  march  reached  Granada. 

Here  he  realized  that  he  had  not  arrived  a moment  too  soon.  He 
found  all  of  the  city,  except  the  plaza,  in  possession  of  the  swarm- 
ing masses  of  the  enemy.  On  the  top  of  the  high  hill  above  the 
church  of  Jalteba  he  found  a part  of  them  fortified.  Pushing 
fiercely  up  to  the  frowning  parapet  he  succeeded,  after  repeated 
charges,  in  driving  the  enemy  pell-mell  down  the  hill  and  into  the 
city.  Here  they  united  with  their  main  body,  but  all  were  hurled 
in  confusion  from  the  streets  of  Granada  by  the  impetuous  Filibus- 
ters. It  was  the  first  time  they  had  met  in  anything  like  an  open 
field,  and  the  Americans  had  brushed  them  from  their  way  as  a boy 
would  scatter  a flock  of  sheep.  The  loss  of  the  allies  in  this  engage- 
ment was  ten  times  that  of  their  opponents. 

The  garrison,  under  command  of  General  Fry,  were  in  a desper- 
ate condition  when  Walker  arrived;  they  had  fired  away  all  of  their 
ammunition  with  the  exception  of  some  five  rounds  apiece,  which 
they  were  reserving  for  the  final  charge  of  the  allies.  The  allies 
immediately  surrounding  them  numbered  about  eight  hundred,  while 
they  had  only  one  hundred  and  fifty,  some  of  whom  were  sick  and 
wounded.  In  those  portions  of  the  city  over  which  they  had  obtained 
the  mastery,  the  excesses  of  the  allies  had  been  frightful.  The 
women  had  been  given  over  to  the  brutality  of  the  soldiery  and  non- 
combatants  were  murdered  in  cold  blood.  Amongst  the  latter  an 
American  Methodist  preacher,  named  Ferguson,  was  shot  down. 
This  battle  and  recapture  of  Granada  occurred  on  the  13th  of 
October,  just  one  year  after  the  date  of  his  first  reduction  of  the 
city. 

Mora,  President  of  Costa  Eica,  seeing  the  weakness  of  Walker’s 
force  and  the  difficulties  of  his  position,  determined  to  seize  the 
Transit  Eoute  so  as  to  prevent  the  arrival  of  any  more  reinforce- 
ments. With  this  object  Canas  was  dispatched  to  the  Pacific  coast 
to  begin  operations  on  that  side,  and  seizing  San  Juan  del  Sur,  he 
garrisoned  it  and  then  fortified  himself  strongly  on  the  high  mesas 
or  table  lands,  lying  between  that  place  and  Virgin  Bay.  A small 
force  of  Americans  attacked  him  in  his  entrenchments,  but  were 


694 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


unable  to  effect  anything  until  they  were  reinforced  by  Walker,  who 
in  a fierce  assault  with  his  inferior  numbers  dashed  over  the  breast- 
works and  drove  Canas  in  a perfect  rout  to  the  allies  at  Rivas.  His 
next  move  was  to  capture  San  Juan  del  Sur  and  garrison  it  with  one 
hundred  and  fifty  men  and  then  return  to  Virgin  Bay,  having  com- 
pletely frustrated  the  plans  of  Canas  and  Mora. 

On  the  15th  of  November  he  marched  against  the  allies,  who  in 
large  numbers  were  strongly  fortified  at  Masaya.  In  the  attacking 
party  were  only  four  hundred  and  fifty  men.  The  attempt  to  dis- 


SAN  JUAN  DEL  SUR. 


lodge  the  allies  proved  a failure.  The  Filibusters  fought  for  three 
days  with  the  ferocity  of  men  despising  danger  and  death,  but  all  of 
their  charges  proving  futule,  they  at  last  sullenly  retired  toward  Gra- 
nada, the  thousands  of  the  allies  not  daring  to  move  out  of  their 
strong  walls  in  pursuit. 

At  Granada,  Walker  determined  to  evacuate  the  city,  so  as  to  pro- 
tect his  posts  along  the  Transit  Route  from  the  allies,  who  were 
swarming  into  Nicaragua  from  all  of  the  other  States.  Marching  with 
a small  force  to  San  Jorge,  Henningsen,  his  second  in  command,  was 


I 


Walker  eatTles  a&aIkst  desperate  odes.  695 

left  at  Granada  with  instructions  to  collect  all  stores,  gather  in  the 
few  small  parties  who  were  operating  as  scouts  and  join  him  at 
San  Jorge . The  native  forces  under  Walker  were  almost  to  a man 
Leonese  and  when  the  order  was  given  to  evacuate  Granada  they 
freely  applied  the  torch  and  also  sacked  the  city.  These  outrages 
the  British  charged  to  Walker,  when  his  whole  history  in  Nicaragua 
shows  that  he  never  tolerated  such  license  amongst  his  troops. 

Hearing  that  the  Filibusters  had  evacuated  Granada,  the  allies 
hurriedly  moved  on  the  town  and  finding  Henningsen  encumbered 
with  his  sick,  wounded  and  stores,  they  divided  their  forces  into  two 
columns  and  marched  to  the  attack  from  opposite  quarters.  Each 
of  these  columns  numbered  from  fifteen  hundred  to  two  thousand 
men.  On  the  side  from  which  one  of  the  columns  attacked  was  an 
old  dismantled  fort,  into  which  twenty-nine  Americans  had  been 
thrown  to  check  the  onset  of  the  enemy  until  Henningsen  could 
arrange  the  order  of  his  march.  'It  was  a forlorn  hope,  but  it  was 
cheerfully  accepted  and  manfully  did  they  do  their  duty.  Charge 
after  charge  of  the  attacking  column  was  beaten  off  and  the  ground 
around  the  fort  was  covered  with  dead  and  dying  men. 

The  allies  were  astounded ; here  were  twenty-nine  Americans  hold- 
ing in  check  one  of  their  columns.  Driving  their  men  to  the  charge, 
with  a line  of  bayonets  behind  them , they  determined  to  win  the  redoubt 
or  perish  before  it . Charge  after  charge  was  thus  made , hour  after  hour 
wore  on  and  still  the  little  band  of  heroes  kept  the  thousands  at  bay. 
Some  had  been  shot,  nearly  all  were  wounded,  but  looking  for  no 
succor  and  seeing  that  it  was  impossible  to  cut  their  way  through  the 
swarms  of  the  natives, they  fought  on,  begrimmed  with  blood  and  pow- 
der and  almost  fainting  with  the  intense  heat.  At  last  what  they  had 
feared  came  to  pass,  their  ammunition- gave  out  and  with  a mighty 
surge  the  wave  of  battle  passed  over  them,  still  fighting  and  killing 
with  breech  of  gun,  butt  of  pistol  and  deadly  Bowie-knife. 

When  the  allies  succeeded  in  taking  the  fortress,  they  found  that 
the  besieged  had  not  a single  load  of  powder  left,  they  were  almost 
famished  for  water,  and  not  a one  of  them  but  had  one  or  more 
wounds  on  his  person.  With  truly  Spanish  cowardice,  they  mur- 
dered every  one  of  these  men,  twelve  in  number,  fourteen  having 
been  killed  during  the  fight  and  three  having  died  of  their  wounds 
after  capture.  The  redoubt  in  their  possession— its  capture  had 
cost  them  one  hundred  and  sixty-seven  men  dead  and  many 


696 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


wounded — they  pressed  in  pursuit  after  Henningsen,  who  had  begun  a 
retreat  toward  the  lake,  but  being  intercepted  in  that  direction,  had 
cut  his  way  through  one  column  of  the  allies  and  took  possession  of 
an  old  church,  this  being  his  only  resource  in  order  to  save  his 
wounded. 


NIGHT  SCENE  ON  THE  RIO  SAN  JUAN— IN  NICARAGUA. 


The  old  church,  which  had  echoed  vO  the  soft  sounds  of  prayer 
and  praise,  was  now  to  hear  a sterner  music.  The  loud  cheer  of  the 
Filibuster  and  the  sharp  crack  of  his  rifle  were  to  ring  out  where  the 
chaunt  of  the  priest  and  the  chime  of  silvery  bells  had  erstwhile 
filled  the  vaulted  roof.  Full  soon  did  the  martial  diapason  begin. 


WALKER  BATTLES  AGAINST  DESPERATE  ODDS. 


697 


Flushed  with  their  success,  the  allies,  disdaining  their  former  policy 
of  fighting  only  behind  breastwork  and  barricade,  rushed  upon  the 
church  in  overpowering  force.  So  great  were  their  numbers  that 
those  behind  prevented  those  in  front  from  retreating,  and  the 
havoc  amongst  them  was  terrible.  After  their  first  poorly  aimed 
volley,  they  were  so  tightly  wedged  in  that  they  could  not  re-load 
and  the  pistols  and  guns  of  the  Filibusters  showered  bullets  into 
their  tightly  packed  masses.  Some  of  them  had  been  forced  inttf 
the  church,  where  they  were  cut  down  with  sabres  and  Bowie- 
knives,  and  the  doorway  and  porch  of  the  temple  of  peace  reeked 
with  the  blood  of  the  allies. 

At  last  those  in  the  rear  comprehended  the  terrible  position  of 
their  comrades  in  front  and  fell  back  to  allow  them  a chance  to  re- 
treat. As  soon  as  they  turned,  those  of  the  Americans  who  had 
sabres  and  knives,  rushed  upon  them  and  cut  them  down  by  dozens. 
The  retreat  degenerated  into  a panic-stricken  flight  and  their  officers 
were  unable  to  reform  them  until  they  put  nearly  a mile  between 
themselves  and  the  terrible  Americans.  In  this  first  assault  the  Fil- 
ibusters lost  two  killed  and  had  about  twenty  men  wounded,  none 
seriously,  while  lying  around  the  door  of  the  church  were  eighty- 
seven  dead  men,  and  fully  two  hundred  of  the  allies  were  wounded. 
A flag  of  truce  was  now  sent  by  the  allies  for  permission  to  collect 
and  bury  their  dead,  which  was  readily  granted. 

This  siege  was  kept  up  for  a month,  the  Filibusters  making  daily 
sallies  and  doing  great  harm  to  the  allies;  in  fact,  so  frequent  and 
disastrous  were  their  raids  that  at  the  end  of  thirty  days  the  allies 
raised  the  siege,  having  lost  over  three  hundred  men  killed  and  some 
four  or  five  hundred  wounded.  Henningsen  now  effected  a junction 
with  Walker  and  marching  on  Rivas,  they  put  Canas  to  flight  and 
occupied  that  town.  Here,  owing  to  its  strong  strategetical  position, 
Walker  determined  to  establish  his  headquarters. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


DEATH  OP  GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  WALKER. 


A CONTEMPTIBLE  CREATURE TREACHERY A FIERCE  ATTACK A FILI- 
BUSTER SUCCESS COLONEL  LOCKRIDGE A BRAYE  MAN DEFEATED 

WALKER  AT  BAY THE  UNITED  STATES  INTERFERES SURRENDERS 

A FATAL  MISTAKE GOES  TO  NEW  ORLEANS ANOTHER  EXPEDITION 

ARRESTED BUCHANAN  DECLINES  TO  PROSECUTE A DECLINING  STAR 

AGAIN  A PRISONER A DESCENT  ON  HONDURAS CAPTURED  NEAR 

TRUXILLO FUTILE  INTERCESSION A MAIDEN’S  PRAYERS THE  LAST 

THOUGHT A WAITING  SWEETHEART -TRIED  AND  SHOT A HERO'S 

DEATH THE  PIONEER  OF  FILIBUSTERS. 


The  intrigues  of  the  contemptible  monopolist,  Vanderbilt,  were 
now  about  to  bear  fruit.  The  swarming  forces  of  the  allies  seemed 
to  promise  him  the  revenge  for  which  he  had  so  longed  waited  and 
he  determined  at  one  blow  to  destroy  all  of  Walker’s  prospects  of 
success.  This  contemptible  creature — whose  heart  was  in  his  pocket 
and  whose  god  was  the  almighty  dollar — had  around  him  other  crea- 
tures fully  as  foul  and  beastly  as  himself  and  one  of  these,  named 
Spencer,  piloted  a large  force  of  Costa  Ricans  down  the  Transit 
Route,  seizing  by  treachery  the  posts  and  calmly  looking  on  at  the 
murder,  in  cold  blood,  of  fifty  of  his  countrymen  by  the  brutal 
wretches  under  his  guidance.  He  did  not  lift  his  hand  nor  utter  a 
word  of  protest  to  save  these  victims  of  his  treachery,  but  rejoiced 
at  the  success  with  which  the  Costa  Ricans  were  doing  the  work  of  his 
master,  Vanderbilt.  Hastening  to  Grey  town,  they  seized  the  few 
steamers  of  the  new  Transit  Company  and  with  the  aid  of  these 
vessels  and  Spencer’s  treachery  succeeded  in  taking  Castillo  Viejo, 
one  of  the  strongest  posts  upon  the  route.  Walker’s  two  lake 
steamers  were  next  seized.  These  vessels  had  been  sent,  with 
only  about  a dozen  men  each,  as  guards,  to  bring  up  some  rein- 
forcements, and  becoming  uneasy  at  their  not  returning,  Walker 
sent  out  a yawl  with  eight  men,  which  also  fell  into  the  hands  of 
Mora,  who  now  was  in  a position  to  cut  off  all  of  Walker’s  rein- 
forcements. 


698 


DEATH  OF  GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  WALKER. 


699 


The  allies,  to  the  number  of  thirty-two  hundred  men,  were  fortified 
at  San  Jorge,  which  Walker  had  evacuated  to  seize  Rivas.  In  addition 
to  these  troops,  those  who  were  operating  along  the  Transit  Route 
must  be  reckoned,  and  to  oppose  these  thousands,  the  Filibusters 
had  only  seven  hundred  men,  the  sick  and  wounded  being  included 
in  this  number.  The  situation  was  desperate  and  Walker  deter- 


SPENCER. 


mined  to  try  a desperate  remedy,  though  with  but  little  hopes  of 
success.  The  allies  at  San  Jorge  had  worked  like  beavers  to 
strengthen  their  fortifications,  and  though  the  Filibusters  attacked 
them  with  desperation,  yet  they  effected  nothing  and  drawing  off 
they  retired,  the  allies  not  leaving  their  lines  to  pursue  them,  and 
for  over  thirty  days  neither  party  made  any  hostile  movement.  A 


700 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


few  reinforcements  had  collected  at  Grey  town,  but  were  unable  to 
reach  Walker,  owing  to  the  steamers  being  in  possession  of  his 
enemies.  At  last  they  found  an  old  hulk  that  had  long  been  dis- 
mantled and  lay  rotting  at  her  wharf.  This  they  patched  up  with 
true  American  pluck  and  set  sail  for  Serapiqui,  where  there  was  an 
allied  garrison  of  five  hundred  men.  The  post  was  strongly  forti- 
fied, but  going  at  it  with  a rush,  the  Filibusters  drove  out  the  garri- 
son with  small  loss. 

These  reinforcements  were  two  hundred  in  number  and  were 
under  the  command  of  Colonel  Lockridge.  Leaving  nearly  half  of 
his  men  to  garrison  Serapiqui,  Lockridge  made  a fatal  mistake,  for 
his  attack  on  the  fort  of  Castillo  Viejo  showed  the  enemy  in  heavy 
force  there.  Notwithstanding  the  disparity  of  numbers,  the  Ameri- 
cans had  inflicted  heavy  losses  upon  the  allies  and  might  eventually 
have  captured  the  post,  had  it  not  been  for  the  treachery  of  an  Eng- 
lishman in  command  there.  His  name  was  Canty  and  he  was  no  doubt 
one  of  the  instruments  through  whom  the  British  operated. 

Asking  for  a truce  in  order  to  bury  his  dead  and  remove  his  sick 
and  wounded,  it  was  incautiously  granted  by  Lockridge,  and  Canty 
improved  the  opportunity  to  send  a courier  for  reinforcements, 
which  fell  upon  the  rear  of  the  Filibusters,  when  they  were  engaged 
with  the  garrison,  and  forced  them  to  retreat.  Falling  back  to 
Greytown,  Lockridge,  seeing  no  way  of  reaching  his  chief,  dis- 
banded his  men  and  they  and  some  new  arrivals,  three  hundred  and 
fifty  in  all,  were  taken  to  New  Orleans  by  a British  man-of-war. 

But  to  return  to  Walker.  When  forced  to  retire,  after  his  attack 
on  San  Jorge,  he  had  returned  to  Rivas  and  here,  throughout  the 
months  of  March  and  April,  (1857),  he  held  out  against  the  com- 
bined forces  of  the  allies,  now  numbering  some  seven  thousand 
men.  Numbers  of  his  men  were  sick  and  wounded,  his  supplies  of 
ammunition  were  nearly  exhausted,  his  men  were  subsisting  on  the 
flesh  of  horses  and  mules,  but  they  doggedly  fought  on.  The  bul- 
lets fell  amongst  them  thick  as  the  ice  pellets  in  a hail  storm,  but 
in  the  midst  of  his  dead  and  dying  the  Filibuster’s  courage  never 
wavered.  Cheering  on  his  men  by  voice  and  example,  he  deter- 
mined to  bury,  beneath  the  ruins  of  Rivas,  at  once  his  golden  visions 
and  his  last  handful  of  heroic  followers. 

Day  and  night  the  battle  raged  and  one  by  one  his  gallant  Ameri- 
cans, sons  of  a long  line  of  heroic  sires  who  had  fought  as  stub- 
bornly on  other  fields,  fell  beside  him.  Worn  down  by  want  of 


DEATH  OF  GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  WALKER 


701 


sleep,  haggard  and  gaunt  from  famine,  their  clothing  shot  to  pieces 
and  their  faces  blackened  by  the  smoke  of  battle,  the  commander 
of  the  United  States  sloop-of-war,  “St.  Mary,”  who  entered  their 
works  under  a flag  of  truce,  read  in  their  blood-shot  eyes  the  deter- 
mination to  fight  to  the  bitter  end.  Sympathizing  with  these  brave 
men  in  their  desperate  situation,  and  impelled  to  admiration  of  a 
valor  he  had  never  seen  equaled,  he  endeavored  to  point  out  to 
Walker  the  folly  of  their  course. 

“If  in  my  dreams  of  conquest,”  said  Walker  in  reply,  “I  have 


EL  PASO  DEL  MUERTE,  WHERE  WALKER  WAS  EXECUTED. 


been  mistaken,  I am  willing  to  atone  for  every  mistake  with  my 
life  blood;  more  I cannot  do.” 

“Yes,”  replied  the  officer,  “but  remember  your  men,  whom  you 
subject  to  the  same  untimely  fate.” 

“I  do  think  of  them,”  said  Walker,  “I  have  always  thought  of 
them,  and  I say  to  them  now,  in  your  presence,  what  I have  long 
ago  said  to  them,  that  any  of  them  who  wishes  to  surrender,  is  at 
liberty  to  do  so.  Any  or  all  of  them  may  go  if  they  desire.” 

“Never,  never  ! ” yelled  the  men  fiercely.  Seeing  that  entreaty 
was  useless,  the  officer  now  told  the  Filibuster  that  if  he  remained 
obstinate  it  would  become  his  duty  to  take  the  schooner,  “Granada,” 


702 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


the  last  of  Walker’s  flotilla.  He  then  quoted  the  old  maxim  of  “he 
that  fights  and  runs  away,”  and  Walker,  hoping  to  still  effect  his 
object  at  a future  date,  was  induced  to  reluctantly  capitulate  on  the 
1st  day  of  May,  1857.  On  this  day  he  marched  out  of  Rivas  with 
four  hundred  men  all  told,  and  embarking  at  San  Juan  del  Sur, 
sailed  away  from  the  scene  of  his  glorious  dreams  and  bitter  reali- 
ties. Thus  ended  the  second  attempt  of  the  great  Filibuster  to 
found  an  Anglo-American  empire  amongst  the  Latin  nations  of 
America. 

Walker’s  fatal  mistake  had  been  in  not  holding,  with  a firm  grasp 
and  by  all  means  in  his  power,  the  Transit  Route  upon  which  his 
reinforcements,  in  fact  his  very  existence,  so  greatly  depended. 
With  this  under  his  control,  he  was  insured  a rapidity  of  movement 
that  would  have  baffled  his  enemies  and  enabled  him  to  strike  them 
at  any  time  they  detached  parties  for  operations.  I know  it  has 
been  urged  that  Rivas  was  a point  from  which  he  could  readily  fall 
upon  the  other  cities  of  Nicaragua,  but  his  continual  attacks  upon 
fortified  places  should  have  taught  him  that  that  was  only  playing 
into  his  enemies’  hands. 

After  his  capitulation,  Commander  C.  H.  Davis,  of  the  “St. 
Mary,”  conveyed  him  and  his  men  to  Panama,  from  whence  they 
made  their  way  to  New  Orleans.  Here  the  Filibuster  was  put 
under  bonds  to  keep  the  peace,  but  we  find  him  again  in  Nicaragua 
in  November,  1857.  In  December  of  that  year,  while  preparing  for 
an  expedition  against  Rivas  and  Leon,  he  was  compelled  by  Commo- 
dore Paulding,  of  the  United  States  Navy,  to  surrender  himself  and 
one  hundred  and  thirty-two  followers  and  they  were  carried  to 
New  York  as  government  prisoners.  Buchanan  was  then  President 
of  the  United  States,  and  being  advised  by  the  Secretary  of  State 
and  the  Attorney-General  that  the  arrest  of  these  men  on  foreign 
soil  was  illegal,  he  declined  to  prosecute  them  and  they  were  dis- 
charged from  custody. 

Nothing  but  misfortune  seems  now  to  have  followed  Walker,  who 
had  lost  his  golden  opportunity.  The  star  of  his  destiny  had  begun 
its  decline  and  was  soon  to  set  in  the  black  night  of  Fate.  In 
October,  1858,  he  sailed  from  Mobile  in  a schooner  without  having 
obtained  clearance  papers  and  was  brought  to  off  the  mouth  of  the 
Mississippi  and  carried  a prisoner  into  New  Orleans.  Here  he  was 
again  prosecuted  and  again  triumphantly  acquitted  and  in  June, 


THE  PRESIDENT’S  DAUGHTER  BEGGING  EUR  WALKER’S  LIFE. 


DEATH  OF  GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  WALKER, 


703 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


1860,  he  sailed  from  New  Orleans  with  a few  followers  for  Truxillo-, 
in  the  State  of  Honduras. 

He  was  captured  in  the  vicinity  of  Truxillo  and  tried  on  a charge 
of  treason  and  inciting  rebellion.  His  condemnation  was,  from  the 


WALKER’S  BETROTHED. 


first,  a foregone  conclusion  and  he  was  sentenced  to  be  shot.  It  is 
said  that  the  daughter  of  the  President  begged  him  for  mercy  for 
the  condemned  man;  quoting  from  the  divinest  of  books,  but  all 


DEATH  OF  GENERAL  WILLIAM  S.  WALKER. 


705 


iii  vain,  the  blessings  which  are  offered  to  the  merciful  and  the  happi- 
ness which  shall  be  theirs  who  show  it.  When  led  out  to  execution  he 
marched  with  as  firm  a port  as  if  to  ball  or  battle.  On  his  lips  was 
a smile  as  peaceful  as  that  which  wreathes  the  roseate  mouth  of  a 
sleeping  child  and  in  his  clear,  gray  eyes  shone  the  light  of  a cour- 
age that  even  death  could  not  daunt.  To  his  followers ; strong, 
bearded  men  in  tears,  he  spoke  a few  cheering  words,  then  bade 
them  a last  adieu  and  faced  his  executioners.  Dropping  to  the 
ground  the  handkerchief  with  which  they  proposed  to  bind  his  eyes, 
he  told  them  that  he  had  faced  death  too  often  to  fear  it  now,  and 
throwing  back  his  head,  he  lightly  touched  his  heart  with  the  fingers 
of  his  right  hand  and  said  calmly,  “fuego,”  (fire),  his  eyes  fixed  in 
a wistful  gaze  upon  the  setting  sun. 

What  were  his  thoughts  at  that  supreme  moment  none  but  the 
heroic  can  guess.  They  might  have  been  regrets  for  his  vanished 
empire  and  his  faded  visions;  they  might  have  been  wandering 
toward  the  busy  city  beside  the  Golden  Gate,  where  life  had  been  to 
him  a blaze  of  perpetual  excitement:  they  might  have  lingered  lov- 
ingly upon  some  dear  one,  who  would  wait  in  anguish  and  in  tears 
for  the  hero  who  would  never  come  again ; or  they  might  have  been 
the  sad  remembrances  of  those  comrades  who  had  preceded  him  into 
the  silent,  shadowy  realm — only  this  we  know,  that  in  them  was 
naught  of  fear. 

As  the  word  of  command  fell  from  his  lips  a line  of  rifles  was 
levelled,  there  was  a flash,  one  loud  simultaneous  report  of  a dozen 
rifles  and  the  Filibuster  chief  lay  stretched  upon  the  sands.  Thus 
perished,  in  the  thirty-sixth  year  of  his  age,  the  Pioneer  American 
Filibuster,  William  S.  Walker. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


COUNT  BAOUSSET-BOULBON. 


A FRENCH  FILIBUSTER A FORGOTTEN  PAGE  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY A POOR 

NOBLE A BRAVE  MAN RUMORS A CONFESSION AN  ACCOMPLISHED 

LADY GASCONY A SHREWD  GUESS UPS  AND  DOWNS EVERYBODY’S 

FRIEND A SUNNY  DISPOSITION A SCHEME TAYLOR,  THE  GAMBLER 

A FRIEND  IN  NEED THE  COUNT  LEAVES  SAN  FRANCISCO A NOVEL 

PROPOSITION ACCEPTED PLANS  OF  ACTION RECRUITS IN  ARI- 
ZONA  A WILY  COMMANDER MEXICAN  JEALOUSY FRIGATE  CAP- 

TURED  BOUGHT  OFF RETURNS  TO  CALIFORNIA RICH  AND  HAPPY 

TAYLOR’S  FRIENDSHIP SAILS  FOR  FRANCE BELL,  OF  TENNESSEE. 


There  is  a chapter  of  the  history  of  the  Pacific  Slope  that  seems 
to  have  escaped  the  grasp  of  the  historian  and  even  of  the  news- 
paper, that  more  persistent  gatherer  of  small  parts  and  parcels  of 
biography  and  adventure  of  which  the  mosaic  work  of  history  is  com- 
posed. The  disposition  of  a people  to  gossip  and  to  collect  bits  of 
scandal,  news  and  personal  biography  is  in  perfect  proportion 
to  their  ability  to  make  true  and  minute  histories.  The  French 
possess  these  traits  in  a high  degree  and  we  know  a thousand 
times  more  of  the  history  of  Napoleon  than  that  of  Wellington;  the 
English  being  a more  reserved  nation  and  not  given  to  recording  their 
impressions  of  men  and  things  in  the  agreeable,  chatty  manner  of 
their  more  mercurial  neighbors  across  the  channel. 

In  America  there  has  developed  a profession,  called  interviewing, 
which  has  for  its  object  the  ferreting  out  and  depicting  for  the  benefit 
of  the  reading  public,  the  qualities,  opinions  and  daily  habits  of 
celebrated  and  notorious  persons  and  this,  together  with  the  immense 
collection  of  biographical  and  autobiographical  sketches  which  fill 
the  columns  of  our  present  periodical  literature,  will  afford  to  the 
future  chronicler  the  richest  of  materials  for  reliable  history.  It  is  a 
pity  that  these  sources  of  information  did  not  earlier  exist,  so  that 
fuller  biographies  of  the  border  pioneers,  filibusters  and  other  Wes- 
tern notables  might  have  been  obtained.  As  it  is  we  are  in  many 

706 


COUNT  RAOUSSET-BOULBON. 


707 


cases  obliged  to  content  ourselves  with  the  meagre  accounts  that  jet 
survive  time’s  Lethean  touch. 

In  the  early  days  of  the  great  gold  excitement,  there  arrived  in 
San  Francisco  a young,  handsome  and  distinguished  looking  French- 


COUNT  RAOUSSET-BOULBON. 


man,  who  was  known  amongst  his  acquaintances  as  the  Count  Kaous- 
set  de  Boulbon.  His  bearing  was  noble  and  but  few  doubted  his 
claim  to  the  title  of  Count.  He  admitted  that  he  was  poor  and  did 
not  think  that  the  avowal  was  at  ail  discreditable.  He  had  come  to 


708 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


California  to  gain  money — “would  he  leave  fair  France  for  any 
other  object ?”  he  asked  with  a shrug  of  his  shoulders  that  would 
anywhere  have  proclaimed  his  nationality.  He  was  willing  to 
turn  his  hand  to  anything  to  obtain  money; — if  he  could  barber, 
well;  if  he  could  black  boots,  still  well;  the  gold  would  wash  off  the 
stains  of  the  labor  and  with  the  wealth  thus  acquired  he  could  buy  back 
his  ancestral  home  in  Gascony.  This  was  the  province  of  his  birth; 
this  sunny  land  of  vines  and  flowers  that  has  furnished  to  our  lan- 
guage a term  for  braggadocio  and  to  the  world  so  many  of  her 
adventurers  and  soldiers  of  Fortune. 

When  the  whole  of  Europe  was  one  immense  battle-ground,  to  be 
a Gascon  was  to  be  a boaster,  but  unlike  the  braggart  of  other  na- 
tions,  the  sword  of  the  Gascon  made  good  the  bravado  of  his  tongue 
and  the  man  of  words,  in  peace,  became  the  man  of  deeds,  when 
action  was  necessary.  Raousset-Boulbon,  descended  from  this 
strain,  but  wanting  their  boastfulness,  was  as  brave  as  a lion,  as 
gentle  as  a child,  and  the  bearded  miner  and  the  burly  “hound” 
soon  learned  to  respect  this  man,  whose  words  were  soft  as  the  sigh 
of  a maiden,  but  whose  strong  right  arm  could  deal  a blow  or  handle 
a pistol,  knife  or  sword  with  the  best  of  them. 

In  regard  to  him  a hundred  rumors  filled  the  camps  and  the  city 
wherever  he  went.  It  was  whispered  of  him  that  he  was  of  royal 
birth.  A charming  countess,  it  was  said,  unable  to  resist  the  suit 
of  a crowned  head,  had  for  a time  gon^  into  retirement  and  the 
count  was  the  fruit  of  her  imprudence.  In  a darkened  chapel,  on  a 
stormy  night,  the  chamberlain  of  a mighty  monarch,  young,  brave 
and  warlike,  had  stood  sponsor  for  the  puny  infant,  which  after- 
ward bore  the  name  of  our  hero.  Others  said  that  he  was  a mere 
adventurer,  the  son  of  the  gutter,  born  of  the  slime  of  Parisian 
alleys  and  educated  in  the  school  of  European  knavery. 

He  was,  said  these,  the  offspringof  a noted  novelist,  and  a lovely 
coryphee  of  the  variety  stage,  who  had,  for  a short  time,  reigned  in 
his  capricious  heart,  until  displaced  by  a fresher  rival.  The  boy, 
according  to  this  account,  was  reared  and  educated  at  the  father’s 
expense  and  had  remained  in  Paris  until  the  latter  was  unable  to 
longer  endure  his  continual  extravagances,  and  he  had  procured 
the  youth  a ticket  for  America,  gave  to  him  a few  thousand  francs, 
kissed  him  upon  either  cheek — after  the  manner  of  Gallic  fathers — 
bestowed  his  benediction  and  told  him  to  go  to  the  devil.  As  the 


COUNT  EAOUSSET-BOULBON. 


709 


nearest  point  of  debarkation  for  the  home  of  that  much-abused  per- 
sonage he  had  selected  San  Francisco,  and  at  this  point  of  the  nar- 
ration, all  of  the  auditors  would  loudly  applaud  the  shrewdness  of 
his  selection  and  chuckle  long  and  loudly  at  this  exhibition  of 
threadbare  wit. 

Another  faction  said  the  man  was  just  what  he  claimed  to  be ; 
neither  more  nor  less.  He  was  a Frenchman  and  a count,  for 
counts  were  no  great  rarity  in  France.  His  tale,  they  said,  was 
true,  so  far  as  it  went,  but,  they  added  mysteriously,  it  didn’t  go  far 
enough.  He  was,  in  their  opinion,  a sort  of  spy  and  was  looking 
out  for  a foothold  on  the  slope  for  his  people,  who  had  become  jeal- 
ous of  the  spread  of  the  American  Eepublic.  They  had  got  some 
pointers  ( pinters  they  called  them ) and  a few  days  would  show 
folks  whether  they  were  right  or  wrong.  He  was  a shrewd  one  and 
they  wouldn’t  be  surprised  at  any  time  to  see  him  backed  up  by 
the  whole  French  fleet,  loaded  down  with  little  monkey- looking 
marines. 

Ludicrous  as  this  last  surmise  in  regard  to  the  aims  and  motives 
of  the  count  may  seem,  it  was  probably  nearer  to  the  truth  than 
any  of  the  other  tales,  except  that  of  the  count  himself. 

To  one  of  his  bosom  friends,  like  himself  self-exiled  from  the 
sunny  land  of  sparkling  vintages,  the  count  would  sometimes  whis- 
per confidentially  of  a maiden,  fairer  than  the  first  blushes  of  the 
virgin  morning,  whose  joyous  eyes  had  laughed  into  his  own  and 
whose  voice,  with  its  heavenly  melody,  had  sunk  into  his  heart. 
“She  will  be  Madame  le  Comptesse , when  I have,  in  this  California, 
my  object  attained.”  And  then,  with  true  Gallic  devotion,  he  would 
bring  out  from  near  his  heart  a little  ringlet  of  hair,  whose  golden 
auburn  tinge  would  shame  the  lustre  of  the  brightest  nugget  that 
ever  the  auriferous  placers  of  California  yielded  to  the  miner’s  toil. 

This  demoiselle  was  a cousin — a French  cousin,  very,  very  far 
removed — and  had  been  his  little  playmate  and  sweetheart  since  they 
were  children.  She  was  a little  angel — “ tres  charmant , mon  ami , 
parole  d'honneur /”  as  he  would  aver.  The  love  of  the  gentle 
maiden  had  twined  around  his  simple  but  manly  heart  and  in  the 
cafes  and  upon  the  boulevards  of  Paris,  as  well  as  in  the  mines  of 
California  and  amidst  the  iniquities  of  San  Francisco,  had  kept  it 
fresh  and  pure;  so  full  of  its  tender  worship  that  nothing  vile 
might  intrude.  It  was  easy  to  believe  that  a being,  who  could  inspire 


710 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


so  true  a sentiment,  was  everything  that  the  enthusiastic  count 
claimed  for  her,  and  surely  no  poet’s  inamorata  ever  had  a more 
faithful  chronicler.  “She  sang  like  Saint  Cecelia,  she  played  like  a 
maestro , she  painted  like  Titian,”  according  to  the  count. 


BOULBON  AND  HIS  BETROTHED. 


How  he  longed  for  the  day  when,  seated  near  her  he  should  once 
more  drink  in  the  solace  of  her  beauty  and  his  ear  and  his  heart 
should  be  gladdened  with  the  liquid  notes  of  her  mellow  tones. 
Then  he  should  be  happy — that  would  be  paradise — and  it  would 


COUNT  BAOUSSET-BOULBON. 


repay  him  for  all  of  his  toil,  all  of  his  danger  and  all  of  his  home- 
sickness in  this  far-away  land  of  the  stranger.  Yes,  that  would  be 
paradise,  and  she,  the  angel  of  his  Eden.  Thus  would  the  poor  fel- 
low rave  of  the  little  Marie,  who  waited  with  a heart  as  true  and  as 
pure  as  his  own,  for  this  son  of  chivalrous,  but  braggart  Gascony. 

His  struggles  to  acquire  the  fortune  with  which  he  was  to  redeem 
his  lost  estates  were  many,  manly  and  pitiable  from  their  continual 
failure.  He  worked  in  the  mines,  but  made  barely  a living,  though 
he  labored  as  long  and  as  hard  as  any  of  his  more  robust  comrades. 
He  turned  his  Gallic  taste  for  the  culinary  arts  to  advantage  and  the 
gay  gallant,  who  in  ladies’  boudoirs  had  listened  to  joyous  madrigals, 
with  a paper  cap  on  his  head  and  the  traditional  apron  around  his 
waist,  made  delicious  little  entrees  and  enticing  bullions  for  a frontier 
hotel.  Here  he  accumulated  a little  money,  but  this  was  soon  gone. 
The  count  was  everybody’s  friend ; no  invalid  appealed  to  him  in 
vain ; no  peripatetic  beat — of  which  delectable  specimen  San  Fran- 
cisco furnished  a multiplicity — “struck  him”  for  “the  few  pennies 
necessary  to  get  him  a lodging  for  the  night”  and  was  denied,  and 
so  the  money  he  had  industriously  saved  to  start  a cafe,  evapo- 
rated. A homesick  “hoosier,”  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  begged  him  to 
give  him  the  ten  dollars  he  lacked  of  having  enough  “ter  git  back 
ter  Injianny  with,”  and  with  a mingled  pity  and  contempt,  the  count 
drew  forth  the  last  of  his  hoard  and  bestowed  it,  saying:  “It  is  too 
little  for  me  to  do  anything  with,  take  it,  I am  yet  young,  I am 
strong,  I am  a man,”  and  he  turned  on  his  heel  penniless,  avoiding 
the  thanks  of  the  creature,  whose  form  proclaimed  him  a man,  but 
whose  words  and  tears  bespoke  him  a caricature  upon  that  “para- 
gon of  animals.” 

So  the  count  gravitated  between  the  ups  and  downs  of  that  strange 
delirious  existence  that  rendered  San  Francisco  a paradise  to  some 
and  a hades  to  others.  At  one  time  he  was  in  the  trough  of  For- 
tune’s waves,  at  another  time  he  was  borne  almost  to  their  crested 
summits,  but  Fate  seemed  determined  never  to  gratify  the  gallant 
gentleman  in  his  aspirations.  Notwithstanding  his  many  reverses, 
he  never  murmured;  like  noble  Horatio,  he  was  truly  “equal  to 
either  fortune.”  Light  hearted,  as  when  a joyous  child,  he  had 
flown  his  kite  amidst  the  floating  clouds  of  his  lovely  Gascon  skies, 
or  wandered  amongst  her  gently  sloping  hills  and  flowery  vales,  the 


712 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


count  continued  his  search  for  the  ever-fleeing  Fortune.  In  the  sum- 
mer of  1852  matters  were  at  their  lowest  ebb  with  the  Gascon.  The- 
golden  delirium  had  begun  to  subside  and  the  numbers  of  disap- 
pointed miners  rushing  in  from  the  hills  filled  every  situation; 
strong  men  often  working  for  their  board.  At  this  time  the  count 


CHILDHOOD  OF  COUNT  RAOUSSET-BOULBON. 


often  went  hungry  to  his  couch  and  sometimes  had  neither  bed  nor 
meal.  Still  he  was  uncomplaining  and  as  debonnair  as  ever.  Had 
he  mentioned  his  want,  a hundred  purses  would  have  been  at  his  dis- 
posal, for  everyone  had  come  to  admire  and  like  the  brave  Gascon. 
This,  however,  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  do;  he  did  not  know 


COUNT  RAOUSSET-BOULBON. 


713 


when  he  could  repay  it  and  he  could  not  accept  an  alms.  When 
the  worst  came  to  the  worst,  he  could  die,  but  he — the  descendant 
of  men  who  had  fought  upon  the  burning  sands  of  Syria  and  Pales- 
tine in  the  ranks  of  the  Crusaders — could  never  beg. 

At  last  his  fate  came  to  him.  In  October  of  that  year,  (1852), 
he  went  to  an  acquaintance,  a Kentucky  gambler  named  Taylor, 
and  gently  calling  him  to  one  side  said,  in  his  quaint,  broken  Eng- 
lish, with  its  strange  idioms  and  its  Latin  accents:  “Mistare  Taylor, 
you  have  often  to  me  offer  money  and  I must  confess,  that  I sev- 
eral times  have  need  it  much,  but  I not  know  how  I shall  evair  repay 
it  you,  so  I must  refuse,  though  I often  have  for  a day  or  two  noth- 
ing eat  and  nowhere  but  upon  the  streets  slept — but  that  is  nothing,” 
and  here  he  smiled  gaily,  as  if  it  was  a very  enjoyable  frolic  to  be 
without  bed  or  board.  “But  now,  Mistaire  Taylor,”  he  said  earn- 
estly, “I  shall  myself  to  you  application  make,  if  you  have  the 
money  to  now  spare — at  last,  sair,  my  fortune,  she  have  smiled 
upon  me,”  and  here  he  shut  his  eyes,  spread  out  his  hands  and 
made,  with  his  lips,  that  caressing  motion  so  peculiar  to  his  race, 
when  they  wish  to  express  ecstatic  joy,  “I  shall  either  get  back  my 
home  or  I shall  die  like  my  forefathers,  a brave  man.  Very  soon  I 
shall  be  able  to  repay  you  it,  or  I shall  be  dead  and  between  brave 
men  that  must  cancel  all  debt.”  With  the  generosity  of  his  class, 
Taylor  lent  him  the  money,  pressing  him  to  take  all  that  he  needed 
and  angry  that  he  had  permitted  himself  to  suffer  while  his  friends 
had  money  and  were  living  in  luxury.  “That  is  but  nothing,  mon 
brave”  said  the  Gascon,  “it  shall  be  what  you  call  the — the  remi- 
niscence, when  I am  once  more  in  Gascony — I shall  think  of  it  all, 
many  times. — this  strange  land — this  California.  You  will  come 
with  me  and  we  will  grow  old  together  and  talk  of  our  life  in  the 
mines — everywhere.”  The  next  morning  after  an  affectionate 
farewell,  the  count,  mounted  upon  a good,  serviceable  steed  and 
armed  with  saber,  rifle  and  revolver,  rode  out  of  San  Francisco 
toward  the  South.  His  disappearance  was  a nine  day’s  wonder  and 
then  he  ceased  to  be  a topic  of  conversation ; other  affairs  replacing 
the  sunny-hearted  count  in  the  rapid  succession  of  events,  which 
blessed  (or  cursed)  California. 

Taylor  was  twitted  by  a “sure  thing”  gambler — who  had  seen  him 
give  money  to  the  Gascon — with  being  a sucker  to  lend  money  to  a 
fellow  who  couldn’t  even  keep  the  money  he  worked  hard  for,  and 


714 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


was  answered  by  the  open-hearted  fellow  with  the  scorn  he  deserved. 
‘‘Look  here,,  he  said,  “if  it  had  been  you,  I’d  have  refused  the 
money  d d quick,  but  the  Frenchman  is  a white  man  and  a gen- 

tleman, every  inch  of  him,  and  as  you  wouldn’t  dare  to  tell  him  that 
he  was  a beat  if  he  was  here,  so  you  won’t  find  it  safe  to  say  so  to 
me.”  With  this  rebuke  he  turned  off  and  left  the  “short  trick”  opera- 
tor to  his  meditations. 

When  he  left  San  Francisco,  the  count  had  matured  a plan  of 
action  that,  after  long  deliberation,  he  felt  sure  would  be  successful. 
After  many  perilous  adventures  he  made  his  way  to  the  City  of 
Mexico  and  laid  his  plans  before  the  government.  He  had  noticed, 
he  said,  that  the  Indians  in  Sonora,  by  their  continual  raids  and 
marauding,  had  rendered  life  so  unsafe  that  it  must  eventually  be 
abandoned.  From  being  a very  productive  State,  it  had  already  be- 
come almost  a waste  and  in  a few  years  it  would  cease  to  support 
any  save  thosn  who  could  live  by  hunting,  as  the  growing  crops  and 
domestic  stock  of  the  haciendas  were  being  continually  destroyed. 
This  he  was  confident  could  be  remedied  and  with  all  due  modesty 
he  believed  that  he  could  bring  about,  in  a short  time,  a very  differ- 
ent state  of  affairs  from  that  at  present  existing  there.  At  any  rate 
he  was  willing  to  risk  his  life,  if  the  government  would  risk  the 
paltry  sum  of  two  hundred  thousand  francs  and  the  arms  necessary 
to  outfit  his  followers.  Convinced  by  liis  earnest  and  honest  de- 
meanor, the  government  agreed  to  place  at  his  command  the  money 
and  arms  necessary  and  furnish  him  with  ten  thousand  men.  To 
this  proposition  the  count  replied  that  he  had  been  educated  at  the 
French  military  school,  had  seen  some  service  and  had  already  ma- 
tured his  plans  of  action.  Their  men  he  did  not  want;  they  would 
only  be  in  his  way,  but  if  they  would  give  him  the  means  and  arms 
required  he  would  immediately  set  about  the  task. 

He  wanted,  so  he  informed  them,  men,  but  men  upon  whom  he 
could  depend  and  those  men  he  wished  to  be  as  nearly  as  was  pos- 
sible situated  like  himself  and  not  overmuch  in  love  with  life.  He 
knew  where  he  could  secure  as  many  Frenchmen  as  he  would  need, 
and  beino;  a Frenchman  himself,  he  would  better  understand  them 
than  men  of  any  other  nationality.  According  to  his  terms,  he  re- 
turned to  California  and  enlisted  in  his  enterprise  a sufficient  num- 
ber of  his  countrymen  and  again  entering  Sonora,  proceeded  to 
carry  out  his  contract.  With  him  it  was,  as  the  steeple-chaser  puts 


COUNT  RAOUSSET-BOULBON. 


715 


it,  “a  winning  leap  or  a broken  neck,”  and  as  is  the  case  with  al- 
most everything  undertaken  by  the  desperate,  it  proved  a success. 
Examining  carefully  the  topographyof  the  State,  he  began  his  cam- 
paign by  marking  out  certain  parallels  running  east  and  west  and 
he  drove  the  Indians  from  one  to  another  of  them,  until  he  had 
almost  cleared  the  country  of  its  savage  marauders. 

He  began  by  making  the  Indians  fear  him.  He  asked  for  noth- 
ing, he  demanded  everything.  He  took  no  prisoners.  Every  soul 
found  in  a hostile  camp  must  perish.  He  struck  at  any  and  all 
times,  when  least  expected.  His  battles  were  continual  surprises. 
If  an  Indian  surrendered,  by  coming  into  his  camp,  he  made  him 
guide  him  secretly  to  the  strongholds  of  his  comrades  and  thus 
prove  his  faith  by  his  works.  To  the  ferocity  of  the  savage  he 
added  the  broader  wisdom  and  greater  shrewdness  of  the  white  man 
and  he  kept  his  enemies  so  continually  on  the  move  that  they  were 
unable  to  supply  themselves  with  game  and  as  much  almost  from 
hunger  and  thirst,  as  from  fear  of  this  gentle  Frenchman  turned, 
from  policy  and  circumstances,  a human  tiger,  they  abandoned  So- 
nora and  fled  northward  to  other  mountain  fastnesses. 

The  merchants  and  the  owners  of  the  large  haciendas  hailed  the 
count  as  a savior,  and  for  fear  he  might  be  forced  to  abandon  the 
good  work,  raised  him  supplies  of  money  and  commissaries.  His 
success  had  made  him  popular  with  all  classes  of  adventurers  and  he 
enlisted  quite  a number,  intending  to  drive  every  savage  from  the 
borders  of  the  State,  but  the  Mexican  government,  becoming  alarmed 
at  his  rapidly  accumulating  power,  sent  a frigate  to  blockade  the 
port  from  which  he  drew  his  supplies.  Secretly  encouraged  by  the 
Sonorans,  the  Gascon  captured  the  man-of-war,  upon  which  the 
government  sent  General  Blanco  with  a large  force,  which  over- 
powered the  gallant  Frenchman. 

Even  after  they  had  him  a prisoner  the  Mexicans,  alarmed  at  the 
mutterings  of  the  people  of  Sonora,  made  a treaty  with  the  French- 
man, and  in  order  to  secure  an  amicable  adjustment  of  the  difficulty, 
paid  him  a large  amount  of  money  to  leave  the  country.  At  last 
fortune  had  smiled  upon  his  brave  and  long  continued  struggle 
against  adversity,  and  with  a sum  of  money  variously  estimated  at 
from  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  to  one  million  dollars,  the 
Gascon  returned  to  San  Francisco.  Seeking  his  friend,  Taylor,  the 
grateful  count  endeavored  to  force  large  sums  upon  him;  ail  of 


716 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


which  the  gambler  refused-  All  he  asked  was  to  have  charge  of  the 
Gascon  until  he  could  obtain  a passage  to  the  shores  of  France,  as 
he  feared  that  his  generosity  would  be  taken  advantage  of  to  rob 
him,  and  at  last  he  saw  him  safely  on  board  of  a French  vessel  and 
sailing  out  toward  that  Golden  Gate,  through  which  had  passed  so 
many  burdens  of  human  joy  and  human  sorrow.  As  the  proud 
ship,  like  some  snowy-winged  bird,  gracefully  sped  upon  her  onward 
way,  the  setting  sun  burst  from  behind  a mass  of  sombre  clouds  and 
cast  a golden  halo  on  sea  and  ship  and  shore. 

Whether  he  went  back  to  his  lonely  mother,  the  once  beautiful 
coryphee;  or  to  his  father,  upon  whose  brow  rested  the  dazzling 
crown  of  an  empire ; whether  he  returned  to  the  splendid  offices  of 
State ; or  whether,  insunny  Gascony,  he  once  again  inhabited  the  castle 
of  his  sires  and  gathered  around  him  the  triple  household  blessings 
of  “wife,  children  and  friends,”  we  may  never  learn,  but  it  was  the 
wish  of  every  one  who  knew  the  gentle  Gascon  that  the  sun-burst 
which  greeted  his  outward  sailing  ship  might  be  typical  of  a bright- 
ness which  perpetually  waited  on  his  after  voyage  of  life. 

In  regard  to  the  surmises  of  a certain  class  of  his  commentators, 
that  his  mission  was  a political  one,  it  may  be  well  to  state  that  no 
less  a personage  than  the  far-seeing  and  patriotic  Senator  Bell,  of 
Tennessee,  entertained  somewhat  similar  notions  in  regard  to  the 
count’s  adventures  in  Sonora  and  so  expressed  himself  in  the  Sen- 
ate of  the  United  States;  calling  the  attention  of  his  colleagues  to 
this  adventurer  and  denouncing  his  actions  as  a jealous  attempt  of 
France  to  check  the  aggression  of  the  Americans  in  that  direction 
and  to  set  up  for  themselves  a colonial  power,  which  might  eventu- 
ally absorb  the  rest  of  Mexico  and  perhaps  Central  America.  The 
fact  that  this  soldier  of  fortune  enlisted  only  Frenchmen  in  his 
scheme  and,  later,  the  attempt  of  Louis  Napoleon  to  establish  an 
empire  in  Mexico,  give  color  to  the  assertions  of  the  Tennessee 
Senator. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


COLONEL  JAMES  BOWIE. 


THE  TEXAN  ERA WHY  PLACED  IN  THIS  DEPARTMENT AARON  BURR’S  DUEL 

DREAMS  OF  EMPIRE THE  BOWIE  KNIFE THE  PIRATE  LAFITTE 

AN  INDIAN  FIGHT A FIERCE  STRUGGLE SAVAGES  RETREAT IN  THE 

TEXAN  ARMY AT  SAN  ANTONIO CROSS-PURPOSES HOUSTON’S  LINE 

OF  DEFENSE IN  FEEBLE  HEALTH A DEVOTED  BAND THE  FATAL  6TH 

OF  MARCH,  1836 THE  ALAMO  SURROUNDED HOW  HEROES  DIE 

BOWIE’S  NOBLE  DEFENSE MEXICAN  MURDERERS A GLORIOUS  DEATH. 


The  two  most  distinguishing  traits  of  the  American  pioneer,  a 
love  of  adventure  and  a desire  for  colonization,  were  never  more 
strongly  exhibited,  than  in  the  movement  which  began  by  planting 
colonies  in  Texas,  and  which  culminated  in  the  conquest  and  annex- 
ation of  that  country.  That  this  spirit  early  possessed  the  descend- 
ants of  the  pioneers,  is  shown  by  the  fact,  that  as  early  as  the  time 
of  Aaron  Burr,  there  was  an  anxiety  to  extend  the  American 
dominion  over  the  Spanish  possessions,  east  of  the  Rio  Grande. 
The  acute  mind  of  Jefferson  clearly  perceived,  that  if  Burr  ever 
meditated  treason  against  the  United  States,  it  was  very  speedily 
merged  into  the  all  absorbing  desire — which  took  possession  of  him 
— to  seize  and  colonize  the  territory  alluded  to. 

Whether  Burr  intended  to  set  up  on  the  American  continent  an 
empire,  something  after  the  fashion  of  Louis  Napoleon  at  a later 
day,  can  only  be  matter  for  conjecture,  but  had  he  not  been 
betrayed  by  Wilkinson,  there  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  he  would 
have  led  a band  of  hardy  Americans  to  dispossess  the  Spaniard  of 
Texas.  The  treachery  of  his  associate  and  the  hostility  of  the  same 
spirit  in  the  East  which  afterward  decried  the  Mexican  war,  broke 
up  his  plans,  scattered  his  associates  and  left  him  a political  wreck, 
without  influence  or  following. 

His  duel  with  Alexander  Hamilton,  about  which  there  has  been 
more  sentimental  bosh  and  twaddle  written,  than  about  any  other 
event  in  American  history,  offended  a class  of  politicians  who  had 
determined  to  build  up,  in  the  United  States,  an  aristocracy  of  office — - 

717 


718 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


holders;  which,  could  it  have  been  effected,  would  have  eventually 
subverted  all  republican  simplicity,  and  along  with  it  would  have 
destroyed  all  save  the  mere  semblance  of  liberty  and  popular  gov- 
erment.  At  the  head  of  this  movement  was  Alexander  Hamilton, 
a man  of  considerable  financial  ability  and  some  talents,  but  base, 
cold  and  cowardly.  Aaron  Burr  was  his  opposite  in  almost  every- 
thing. He  was  warm,  impulsive,  magnetic  and  essentially  a man 
of  the  people.  Brave  to  a fault,  his  temper  was  quick  and  his 
passions  but  poorly  restrained,  and  this  unfortunate  combination  of 
hot  blood  and  high  temper  led  to  the  perpetration  of  grievous 
faults,  of  which  Burr  himself  felt  the  enormity  and  which  caused 
him  immeasurable  anguish  and  remorse.  It  is  but  fair  to  say  that 
he  never,  even  in  the  slightest  degree,  regretted  his  duel  with  Ham- 
ilton, into  which  he  was  forced  by  the  contemptible  slanders  of  the 
latter;  a cold,  selfish  libertine,  far  more  guilty  than  the  victim  of 
his  attack. 

When,  by  his  animadversions  and  accusations,  he  had  forced 
Burr  to  send  him  the  fatal  challenge,  the  coward  spirit  of  the 
traducer  trembled  with  fearful  presentiments.  He  had  hounded  the 
man,  whose  ruined  fame  and  broken  fortunes  seemed  to  make  it  safe, 
until  he  had  forced  him  to  assert  himself  and  now  he  quailed  with 
dastardjy  fear  before  his  righteous  wrath.  In  speaking  of  their 
meeting  upon  the  lonely  shore  of  the  river — on  that  cold,  gray 
morning,  that  was  to  be  the  last  of  earth  for  one  of  them — Burr 
said,  years  after:  “As  we  met,  I looked  at  him  full  in  the  face, 
but  he  turned  pale,  trembled,  and  couldn’t  meet  my  eye,  and  then 
I knew  I had  him.”  The  sequel  is  well  known.  Hamilton  fell, 
and  Burr,  under  the  persecution  of  the  powerful  spirit  before 
alluded  to,  became  a shadow  among  men;  as  powerless  and  almost 
as  unreal.  To  others  was  left  the  task  he  had  assumed  and  well 
did  they  carry  out  the  plans  of  fate;  the  fruition  denied  to  him, 
not  being  withheld  from  the  gallant  spirits  which  succeeded  him. 

In  the  department  of  the  Pacific  slope,  we  have  placed  the  deeds 
of  the  Texan  heroes,  since  the  conquest  of  Texas  and  that  of  Cali- 
fornia and  New  Mexico,  are  parts  of  one  era,  and  the  spirit  that  led 
to  the  annexation  of  Texas,  provoked  the  conflict  with  Mexico,  in 
which  that  republic  was  curtailed  of  so  large  a portion  of  her  terri- 
tory. In  the  course  of  time  we  should,  in  any  event,  have  become 
possessed  of  the  territory  west  of  the  Bockies,  but  had  it  not  been 


COLONEL  JAMES  BOWIE. 


719 


for  the  conquest  of  Texas,  it  is  doubtful  if  the  occupation  of  “the 
slope”  would  have  been  so  speedily  attempted,  or  so  easily  carried 
out.  Of  the  national  morality  of  these  conquests  and  their  effect 
upon  after  events,  we  shall  not  speculate.  Certain  it  is,  however, 
that  the  very  political  party  that  most  strenuously  opposed  the 
acquisition  of  further  territory,  has  been  most  greatly  benefitted  by 
it.  Thus  it  is  easy  to  see  how  blind  are  the  most  sapient  of  the 
politicians,  in  regard  to  matters  yet  in  the  future.  Providence  has 
certainly  smiled  upon  this  attempt  to  show  the  divinity  of  the 
doctrine  of  “manifest  destiny,”  and  if  “the  end  justifies  the 
means,”  this  robbery  of  a weaker  neighbor  would  seem  to  have 
been  merely  the  carrying  out  of  the  predestined  plans  of  Fate. 

So  much  have  we  considered  the  Texan  and  Californian  epoch  one 
and  the  same,  that  we  have  seen  no  necessity  for  assigning  to  them 
separate  classifications,  but  have  joined  them  in  this  department  of 
our  work,  since  they  are  almost  identical  in  point  of  time,  character 
and  incentive.  Of  Oregon,  a part  of  the  Pacific  seaboard,  we  have 
said  nothing,  that  being  the  only  portion  of  our  great  republic  which 
was  acquired  by  the  uneventful  method  of  discovery ; all  of  the  rest 
having  been  purchased  or  won  in  battle. 

James  Bowie  was  a native  of  Georgia,  but  removed  as  early  as  1802, 
with  his  family,  to  Chatahoula  Parish,  Louisiana,  where  he  resided 
until  his  expedition  to  Texas,  from  which  he  never  returned.  Con- 
trary to  the  generally  received  opinion,  Bowie  was  a delicate  man, 
of  mild  manners  and  averse  to  bloodshed,  but  when  roused  by  insult 
or  injury,  his  courage  was  desperate.  It  has  been  usual  to  picture 
him  as  a typical  desperado,  ever  ready  to  impose  a quarrel,  or  join 
in  a melee.  Novelists  have  described  him  as  a robust  giant,  whose 
prowess  with  the  knife  which  bears  his  family  name,  was  miracu- 
lous, and  ascribe  the  very  invention  of  that  knife  to  an  encounter 
in  which  he  had  broken  his  sword  and  found  the  shortened  blade  an 
admirable  weapon. 

The  truth  is,  that  Rezin  P.  Bowie,  his  brother,  invented  the  knife, 
and  its  length,  shape  and  temper,  were  the  results  of  accident. 
Fashioning  a knife  for  hunting  purposes,  he  chose  a blacksmith’s 
rasp,  on  account  of  the  admirable  quality  of  its  steel,  and  from  it 
the  most  formidable  of  all  close-quarter  weapons  was  manufactured. 
The  exact  length  of  the  original  bowie  knife,  was  nine  and  a quarter 
inches,  and  its  blade  one  and  a half  inches  wide.  Its  length  and 


720 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


weight  made  it  a weapon  with  which  either  a cut  or  thrust  might  b* 
delivered,  and  in  a measure,  it  answered  the  end  of  both  a saore 
and  a dagger.  Making  himself  a second  one,  the  original  was  by 
him  presented  to  his  brother  James,  with  the  words:  ‘‘You  may 
some  time  find  it  useful.  Should  the  occasion  ever  come,  you  may 
depend  upon  its  temper  and  its  strength.” 

It  was  not  long  after,  that  the  occasion  did  come.  Bowie  had 
been  waylaid  and  badly  wounded  and  knowing  that  at  any  time 
another  attack  might  occur,  he  went  constantly  prepared.  On  the 
10th  day  of  September,  1827,  Bowie  with  a few  friends  met  his 
antagonist,  Norris  Wright,  similarly  accompanied,  upon  a sand-bar 
in  the  Mississippi  River  and  the  combat  immediately  opened. 
Bowie,  at  the  first  fire,  fell  with  a serious  wound  in  the  hip  and 
Wright  advanced  rapidly  upon  him  in  order  to  finish  his  dreaded 
antagonist.  It  was  now  that  his  brother’s  gift  proved  itself  worthy 
of  all  the  praise  that  had  been  bestowed  upon  it.  Wright  thought 
that  his  shot  had  deprived  his  enemy  of  all  power  of  resistance  and 
rushing  too  carelessly  upon  the  fallen  man,  Bowie  made  an  upward 
thrust  with  his  knife  and  Wright  fell  dead  beside  him.  Thus  in 
pure  self-defense  the  terrible  weapon  was  christened  in  human  blood 
and  from  that  day  has  been  known  as  the  Bowie-knife.  Two  others 
were  killed  in  this  fight.  This  was  the  first  and  only  time  the 
knife  was  ever  used  by  either  of  the  Bowies  in  duel  with  a human  foe; 
in  fact  Rezin  Bowie  always  claimed  that  neither  of  them  had  ever 
fought  a regular  duel,  since  the  meeting  above  described  was  a 
chance  one. 

After  Lafitte  had  been  driven  from  Barataria,  he  established  his 
piratical  rendezvous  on  Galveston  Island,  where  the  ruins  of  his  fort 
may  still  be  seen,  and  from  him  the  Bowie  brothers  were  accustomed 
to  purchase  African  slaves  fresh  from  the  tropical  coasts  of  that 
country.  One  lot  of  these,  numbering  one  hundred,  escaped  from 
Bowie  one  night  and  flying  westward  through  the  tangled  cane-brakes 
and  the  terrible  thickets,  made  good  their  escape,  and  it  is  no  doubt 
from  these  negroes  that  many  of  the  Mexicans  as  well  as  the 
black  Kickapoo  Indians  obtained  their  sable  tinge.  Bowie  was  a 
member  of  the  celebrated  expedition  known  as  “Long’s  Expedi- 
tion,” which  occurred  in  1819,  and  from  thenceforth  James  Bowie 
was  a citizen  of  the  section  afterwards  denominated  Texas.  On  the 
5th  day  of  October,  1830,  he  became  a naturalized  citizen  of  Mexico, 


COLONEL  JAMES  BOWIE 


721 


at  Saltillo,  and  in  a short  time  afterward  married,  at  San  Antonio,  a 
Signorita  Veramnndi,  daughter  of  the  Vice-Governor. 

A happy  marriage  seems  not  to  have  tamed  the  adventurous  spirit 
of  this  pioneer  and  in  November,  1831,  we  find  him,  his  brother 
Rezin,  seven  other  Americans  and  two  negroes  starting  from  San 
Antonio  to  search  for  the  old  silver  mines  of  San  Saba.  The  expe- 
dition was  destined  to  produce  more  of  excitement  than  of  precious 
metal,  for  before  they  reached  the  old  Mission  of  San  Saba,  they 
were  surrounded  by  a war  party  of  Caddo  and  Tehuacana  Indians, 
one  hundred  and  sixty-four  in  number.  Nothing  was  left  to  the 
Americans  but  to  entrench  as  best  they  might  and  fight  as  desper- 
ately as  possible  for  their  lives.  A slight  depression  in  the  ground 


RUINS  OF  LAFITTE’S  FORT  ON  GALVESTON  ISLAND. 


was  selected  and  as  hastily  as  possible  a slight  breast-work  covered 
them  in  a measure  from  the  savages.  The  latter,  seeing  that  they 
were  nearly  twenty  to  one,  closed  in  on  them  at  a swift  circling 
gallop,  but  loosing  half  a dozen  of  their  men  at  the  first  volley  from 
the  whites,  they  soon  withdrew  beyond  reach  of  their  bullets. 

In  a short  time,  however,  they  again  came  sweeping  on  to  the 
charge,  only  to  meet  with  a similar  reception  and  to  retire  as  before, 
with  several  dead  and  wounded.  Every  stratagem  of  savage  warfare 
was  put  in  force,  but  still  the  little  band  of  heroes  held  out.  Lying  flat 
in  the  tall  grass,  they  crawled  as  slyly  as  snakes  toward  the  breast- 
works, when  the  whites  arose  and  being  thus  enabled  to  see  their  foes, 
picked  them  off  by  the  dozen.  At  last  they  rose  to  the  charge  when 


722 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


the  whites  sank  to  the  ground  and  slaying  their  chiefs,  again 
repulsed  them.  The  combat  had  lasted  for  hours  and  the  plain  was 
dotted  with  Indian  corpses,  while  within  the  little  fort,  if  it  may  be 
so  dignified,  was  but  one  dead  and  one  wounded  man.  The  Indians, 


BOWIE’S  FIGHT  WITH  THE  CADDO  AND  TEHUACANA  INDIANS. 

despairing  of  capturing  the  party  by  assault,  now  set  fire  to  the  high 
grass,  determined  to  follow  its  fierce  and  irresistible  rush  and  finish 
at  one  blow  their  flying  enemy,  but  even  in  this  they  were  doomed 
to  disappointment.  For  a few  minutes  the  fire  rushed  with  fearful 


COLOXEL  JAMIES  BOWIE. 


723 


velocity  toward  the  heroic  whites,  but  just  when  it  seemed  as  if 
escape  were  impossible,  the  wind  changed  and  the  smoke  and  flame 
were  driven  full  into  the  faces  of  the  rapidly  advancing  savages. 
Thrown  into  the  utmost  confusion,  they  had  only  time  to  fire  a 
hasty  volley,  which  wounded  two  men  of  the  whites,  and  they  turned 
in  flight.  Into  their  densely  packed  and  bewildered  masses  the 
Americans  poured  volley  after  volley  and  the  combat  was  at  an  end. 
Regaining  their  horses  the  Indians  fled,  leaving  their  dead  upon  the 
field.  The  fight  had  lasted  for  hours,  and  nearly  one  half  of  the 
savage  assailants  lay  dead.  The  expedition  to  the  mines,  however, 
was  at  an  end  Bowie  returned  to  San  Antonio. 

During  the  stirring  events  of  1832,  Bowie  was  prominent  upon 
the  scene  and  in  August  of  that  year,  was  at  Nacogdoches  and, 
after  the  surrender  of  Piedras,  took  charge  of  the  prisoners  and  con- 
veyed them  to  San  Antonio,  from  whence  they  were  sent  on  to 
Tampico.  In  1838  he  was  with  the  army  of  Texas  and  was 
second  in  command  at  the  battle  of  Concepcion.  At  this  time 
Bowie  was  Fannin’s  superior  in  rank;  the  latter  bearing  a captain’s 
commission,  while  the  former  had  attained  to  the  rank  of  colonel. 
To  satisfy  some  private  pique,  however,  Austin  had  sent  Fannin 
out  in  command  of  the  party  of  reconnoisance  and  Bowie,  to  avoid 
all  embarrassments  and  unwilling  to  be  made  the  tool  of  petty 
jealousies  on  the  part  of  Houston,  resigned  his  commission  on  the 
2nd  of  November. 

After  the  capture  of  San  Antonio,  Bowie  was  with  the  army  at 
Goliad  for  a time,  but  had  left  that  point  before  receiving  Houston’s 
order  to  organize  forces  for  a descent  on  Matamoras,  and  the  order 
never  reached  him.  It  was  well  known  that  Houston  was  opposed 
to  any  movement  against  Matamoras  and  everyone  thought  that  his 
order  to  Bowie  was  only  intended  to  harrass  Johnson  and  Grant, 
who  were  preparing  for  a march  to  the  Rio  Grande.  Upon  the 
return  of  Bowie  to  Goliad,  in  1 836,  he  met  Houston  there,  on  the  16th 
day  of  January,  and  Houston  sent  him  back  to  San  Antonio  with 
imperative  orders  to  Colonel  Neil  to  dismantle  the  fort  there  and 
to  retire  promptly  to  the  east  side  of  the  Guadeloupe  River,  which 
Houston  intended  making  his  line  of  defense.  Had  this  order  been 
obeyed,  it  would  have  prevented  the  terrible  massacre  of  the  Alamo, 
in  the  succeeding  march,  but  Bowie  found,  instead  of  Neil,  that 
Travis  was  in  command  at  San  Antonio  and  acting,  as  he  said,  under 


724 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


special  orders  of  Governor  Smith  or  Lieutenant-Governor  Robinson. 
Bowie’s  health  at  this  time  was  very  feeble,  and  when  Santa  Anna 
sat  down  before  San  Antonio,  he  with  the  other  Texans  entered  the 
ill-fated  Alamo,  from  which  not  one  of  that  heroic  band  was  ever 
to  emerge.  During  the  siege,  when  Travis  asked  that  all  who  were 
willing  to  die  with  him  should  place  themselves  upon  a certain  line, 
every  man  responded  instantly.  Bowie,  lying  sick  upon  his  cot, 
asked  that  it  be  carried  into  the  line  along  with  his  gallant  comrades 
and  this  was  done.  The  rest  is  the  property  of  the  world.  It  is 
the  struggle  of  heroes  against  numbers  so  great  that  even  courage 
as  undying  as  their* s could  not  make  head. 

On  the  23d  day  of  February  the  action  began  and  on  the  6th  of 
March  it  terminated  in  the  death  of  every  one  of  the  gallant  Ameri- 
cans. Bowie’s  death  was  the  apotheosis  of  his  heroic  life  and  was 
doubtless  just  such  as  he  would  have  chosen.  When  the  oncoming 
hordes  of  the  Mexicans  swept  into  and  through  the  battered  breaches 
in  the  walls  of  the  Alamo,  they  found  Bowie  stretched  upon  his  cot, 
his  life  fast  ebbing  away  from  the  attacks  of  his  dread  disease,  con- 
sumption. With  an  unqualing  eye  he  looked  on  the  approaching 
death  and  seizing  his  pistols  he  determined  to  sell  his  life  as  dearly 
as  possible.  Two  of  the  cowards  who  dashed  toward  him,  fell 
beneath  his  steady  aim  and  then  he  grasped  the  trusty  knife  that  had 
served  him  so  well  upon  that  sandy  battle-ground  on  the  far-off  Mis- 
sissippi. The  blood  of  the  hero  for  a moment  gave  him  strength  and 
the  noble  steel  was  plunged  into  the  bodies  of  three  of  his  murder- 
ers, before  his  gallant  spirit  took  its  flight  from  that  frail  tenement, 
now  pierced  by  almost  a hundred  wounds. 

This,  in  brief,  is  the  history  of  James  Bowie:  those  who  would 
read  it  in  detail  will  find  it  written  in  stirring  episodes  from  his  boy- 
hood home  in  Georgia,  to  the  mountain  chains  of  old  Mexico.  His 
deeds  of  daring  would  of  themselves  fill  volumes  and  in  none  of  them 
do  we  find  a single  trace  of  the  braggart,  the  tyrant  or  the  desperado. 
His  life  had  been  that  of  a hero,  his  death  was  not  less  glorious  and 
well  may  he  be  ranked  with  the  pioneers  of  freedom  in  the  annals 
of  the  grand  State  of  the  Lone  Star. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


WILLIAM  BARRETT  TRAVIS— THE  HERO  OF  THE  ALAMO. 


SCHOOL  TEACHER  AND  LAWYER -IN  TEXAS ESCAPES  ARREST A CAPTURE 

HOUSTON’S  ERROR IN  COMMAND  AT  SAN  ANTONIO ASKS  FOR  REIN- 
FORCEMENTS  BRAYE  AND  SKILLFUL HIS  DETERMINATION A CALL 

FOR  AID THE  DOOMED  ALAMO A NOBLE  MEXICAN  THE  FINAL 

CHARGE HEROIC  DEFENDERS THE  ALAMO  TAKEN A BLOODY  MAS- 
SACRE  MAJOR  EVAN’S  DARING DEATH  OF  TRAVIS THE  TRAGEDY 

OYER INHUMAN  VENGEANCE A RUDE  BUT  HEROIC  MONUMENT STIR- 

RING INSCRIPTIONS. 

William  Barrett  Travis,  the  “Hero  of  the  Alamo,”  was  born  in 
North  Carolina,  but  his  parents  removed  to  Alabama  while  he  was 
but  a child  and  here  he  remained  until  he  had  become  a grown  man. 
In  early  life  he  taught  school  and  while  engaged  in  this  profession 
studied  that  of  law.  Like  many  another  pedagogue,  one  of  his 
pupils  to  whom  he  gave  lessons  in  the  English  branches,  taught  to 
him  the  rudiments  of  the  art  of  love  and  they  were  finally  married. 
Travis  at  this  time  was  about  twenty-six  years  of  age,  was  a fine  look- 
ing man,  about  six  feet  high,  and  weighing  one  hundred  and  seventy- 
pounds.  His  hair  was  light,  his  eyes  blue,  his  beard  slightly  auburn, 
his  complexion  fair  and  his  face  round.  He  was  only  twenty-eight  years 
old  when  he  met  his  tragic  fate  at  the  Alamo.  On  joining  his  fortunes 
with  that  of  his  adopted  State,  Texas,  Travis  was  sent  to  San  Felipe, 
but  remained  only  a short  time  and  returning,  was  elected  Major  of 
artillery.  Smith  now  ordered  Travis  to  San  Antonio.  Here  he 
made  every  arrangement  that  a brave  and  skillful  leader  could,  to 
receive  the  enemy  that  was  about  to  overwhelm  him  with  an  ava- 
lanche of  numbers.  On  the  24th  of  February,  1836,  he  wrote 
the  following  proclamation:  “To  the  people  of  Texas  and  all 
Americans  in  the  world.  Fellow  citizens  and  compatriots: 

I am  besieged  by  a thousand  or  more  Mexicans,  under  Santa 
Anna.  I have  sustained  a continual  bombardment  and  cannon- 
ade for  twenty-four  hours,  and  -have  not  lost  a man.  The 

,7  25 


726 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS 


enemy  have  demanded  a ‘surrender  at  discretion,’  or  that  the  garri- 
son will  be  put  to  the  swwd  when  taken.  I have  answered  the 
summons  with  a cannon  shot  and  our  flag  still  waves  proudly  from 
the  walls.  1 shall  never  surrender  or  retreat.  Then  I call  upon 
you,  in  the  name  of  liberty,  patriotism  and  everything  dear  to  the 
American  character,  to  come  to  our  aid  with  dispatch.  The  enemy 
are  receiving  reinforcements  daily  and  will  doubtless  in  a few  days 
be  increased  to  three  or  four  thousand.  Though  this  call  may  be 
neglected,  I am  determined  to  sustain  myself  as  long  as  possible  and 
die  like  a soldier,  who  never  forgets  what  is  due  to  his  own  honor 
and  that  of  his  country.  Victory  or  death” 


STORMING  OF  THE  ALAMO. 


On  the  3rd  of  March  he  wrote  to  the  convention  at  Washington, 
“I  am  still  here,  in  fine  spirits  and  well  to  do.  With  one  hundred 
and  forty-five  men  I have  held  the  place  against  a force  variously 
estimated  at  from  1,500  to  6,000  and  I shall  continue  to  hold  it  until 
I get  relief  from  my  countrymen  or  I will  perish  in  its  defense. 
* * * * * A blood-red  banner  waves  from  the  church  in 

Bexar  and  in  the  camp  above  us,  in  token  that  the  war  is  one  of 
vengeance  against  rebels,  ******  God  and  Texas  ! 
Victory  or  death  I ’ ’ 


I 


WILLIAM  BARRETT  TRAVIS— THE  HERO  OF  THE  ALAMO,  727 


MONUMENT  ERECTED 


— TO  — 

THE  HEROES  OF  THE  ALAMO, 

AND  NOW  STANDING  AT  THE  ENTRANCE  TO  THE  STATE  HOUSE  AT  AUSTIN,  TEXAS. 


Inscription  on  the  Shaft— North  Front.— To  the  God  of  the  fearless  and  free  is  dedi- 
cated this  altar  made  from  the  ruins  of  the  Alamo.  March  6th,  1836,  A.  D. 


Inscription  on  the  West  Front. -Blood  of  Heroes  hath  stained  me;  let  the  stones  or 
the  Alamo  speak  that  their  immolation  he  not  forgotten.  March  6th,  1836,  A.  D. 


Inscription  on  the  South  Front.— Be  they  enrolled  with  Leonidas  in  the  host  of  the 
mighty  dead.  March  6th,  1836,  A.  D. 


Inscription  on  the  East  Front.— Thermopylae  had  her  messenger  of  defeat,  but  the 
i Uamo  had  none,  March  6th,  1836,  A.  D. 


728 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


In  a private  letter  Travis  writes  to  an  intimate  friend:  “Take 
care  of  my  little  boy.  If  the  country  should  be  saved  I may  make 
him  a splendid  fortune ; but  if  the  country  should  be  lost  and  I 
should  perish,  he  will  have  nothing  but  the  proud  recollection  that 
he  is  the  son  of  a man  who  died  for  his  country.”  No  aid  came, 
and  closer  and  closer  pressed  on  the  clouds  of  Mexicans.  On  the 
tenth  day  all  hopes  of  succor  were  abandoned,  and  drawing  with  his 
sword  a line  across  the  main  room  of  the  building,  Travis  requested 
all  that  were  willing  to  die  for  Texas  to  cross  the  line  to  him,  while 
any  who  desired  to  surrender  or  attempt  escape  to  remain  on  the 
other  side.  Every  man  crossed  over  to  Travis,  and  the  gallant 
Bowie,  who  was  swiftly  dying  of  consumption,  had  his  friends 
carry  the  cot  upon  which  he  lay  over  the  line  of  death. 

There  was  no  craven  amongst  the  one  hundred  and  forty-five  men 
that  the  fortunes  of  war  or  the  intangible  nets  of  Fate  had  dragged 
together  in  the  fatal  old  Catholic  Mission.  Under  the  lead  of  the 
gallant  Castrellon,  a Mexican  hero,  who  deserved  a nobler  fate  than 
to  be  associated  with  such  creatures  as  Santa  Anna  and  Ugartechea, 
the  Mexicans,  on  the  6th  day  of  March,  1836,  advanced  to  the  final 
charge.  Twice  were  they  driven  back  by  the  deadly  shower  of 
grape,  cannister  and  rifle  balls  that  poured  its  fury  into  their  ranks, 
and  twice  were  they  rallied  by  their  brave  leader.  Re-forming  his 
men  for  the  third  time,  their  dense  masses  surged  up  to  and  over 
the  fortifications  and,  like  a gigantic  wave,  swept  away  its  feeble  but 
heroic  garrison. 

It  had  been  agreed  that,  when  further  resistance  seemed  useless, 
any  surviving  Texan  should  fire  the  magazine  and  involve  friend  and 
foe  in  irretrievable  ruin.  Major  Evans,  torch  in  hand,  was  just  in 
the  act  of  firing  the  fuse  when  he  fell  dead,  shot  through  by  twenty 
bullets.  The  tragedy  was  over.  The  Alamo  was  in  the  hands  of  the 
Mexicans  and  not  a single  survivor  lived  to  tell  the  tale  of  its  heroic 
defense. 

Riddling  the  lifeless  bodies  with  balls,  the  human  hyenas  piled 
them  together  and  partly  burned  them,  thus  wreaking  their  inhuman 
vengeance  upon  the  dead. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


ELLIS  P.  BEAN  AND  OTHERS. 


YOUNG  ADVENTURER LEAVES  HOME SHIPWRECKED GOES  TO  TEXAS 

- - — —CAPTURED CHAINED IN  PRISON A UNIVERSAL  GENIUS SHOE- 
MAKER, HATTER  AND  QUARRYMAN HIS  ESCAPE BETRAYED RECAP- 
TURE  -BUILDS  POWDER  MILLS GAINS  HIS  LIBERTY WITH  THE  PAT- 
RIOT-PRIEST, MORELOS BRAVE  AND  NOBLE EMBASSADOR  TO  THE 

UNITED  STATES SAILS  WITH  LAFITTE SERVES  AT  THE  BATTLE  OF  NEW 

ORLEANS VISITS  HOME INDIAN  AGENT  FOR  TEXAS HIS  MARRIAGE 

OTHER  HEROES. 


The  career  of  this  Texan  hero  and  pioneer  is  one  of  the  most 
romantic  imaginable.  Born  of  respectable  parentage,  he  was  a native 
of  the  State  of  Tennessee  and  early  discovered  an  inclination  for 
ro/mg  and  adventure.  He  was  but  sixteen  years  of  age  when  he 
determined  to  cut  loose  from  his  home  moorings  and  start  out  for 
himeclf  on  the  voyage  of  life.  He  succeeded  in  persuading  his 
father,  a man  in  very  comfortable  circumstances,  to  outfit  for  him  a 
fiatboat  with  such  produce  as  was  suited  to  the  river  trade,  and  set 
out  with  the  highest  of  hopes.  At  the  Muscle  Shoals  he  met  with  his 
first  mishap,  and  it  was  one  that  would  have  dampened  the  ardor  of 
most  boys,  but  by  Bean  it  was  received  as  one  of  the  inevitable 
changes  of  fortune.  At  these  rapids,  through  some  mismanage- 
ment of  the  boat  it  was  capsized  and  the  cargo  went  by  a rapid 
stage  to  the  bottom  of  the  river,  leaving  its  owner  with  only  the  few 
dollars  with  which  he  had  been  provided  by  his  prudent  parents. 

Having  set  out  to  seek  his  fortune,  Bean  had  no  idea  of  retracing 
his  steps  at  the  very  first  calamity  and  he  continued  down  the  river 
until  he  had  reached  Natchez.  Here  he  found  a company  of  men 
under  command  of  Philip  Nolan,  even  then  well  known  in  the  Lone 
Star  State,  about  to  start  for  Texas  to  engage  in  the  capture  of 
Mustang  horses.  It  was  just  such  a venture  as  suited  the  brave  and 
hardy  youth,  and  he  became  one  of  the  number.  His  dash  and  good 
humor  were  soon  recognized  and  he  was  unanimously  elected  as 
second  officer,  and  the  expedition  set  out.  They  reached  Texas 

729 


?36 


roKQU&RING  THE!  Wt LDjSftNfiSS. 


and  were  proceeding  peaceably  about  their  business  when  the  Spani- 
ards, who  always  entertained  a hatred  of  the  republican  Americans, 
pursued  and  overtook  them  near  the  block-house,  which  stood  upon 
the  present  site  of  Tehuacana.  This  occurred  on  the  21st  day  of 
March,  1801. 

The  Spaniards,  under  command  of  the  infamous  Musquis,  firsd 


ELLIS  P.  BEAN. 


upon  them  and  Nolan  fell  dead.  Bean  was  now  in  command 
of  his  comrades  and  proposed  to  make  a fight,  declaring  his  confi- 
dence in  their  ability  to  whip  the  enemy,  but  he  was  opposed  by  all 
of  his  men  and  at  last,  though  bitterly  opposed  to  it,  surrendered; 
having  received  the  most  positive  promises  of  good  treatment  and 
that  they  should  be  sent  with  an  escort  to  Natchez  and  there  released. 


ELLIS  P.  BEAN  AND  OTHERS. 


731 


The  sequel  shows  how  much  dependence  could  be  placed  in  the 
word  of  these  treacherous  scoundrels. 

They  were  marched  under  a heavy  guard  to  the  Nacogdoches,  and 
at  that  point  were  chained  together  in  couples  and  marched  on,  first 
to  San  Antonio  and  then  to  the  Rio  Grande.  It  was  the  custom  of 
the  Spaniards  to  frequently  move  their  prisoners  from  one  prison  to 
another,  doubtless  for  fear  that  they  might  be  able  to  corrupt  their 
guards  or  perfect  means  of  escape  if  left  any  considerable  length  of 
time  in  one  place.  At  each  of  the  different  prisons,  Bean,  who  had 
never  learned  any  trade,  but  whose  mechanical  genius  was  of  the 
highest  order,  followed  a different  avocation  to  obtain  the  money 
necessary  to  enable  him  to  live  with  any  degree  of  comfort.  At 
San  Louis  Potosi  he  was  a shoemaker.  Here  he  was  detained  for 
more  than  twelve  months. 

He  was  next  taken  to  Chihuahua  and  here  he  followed  the  hatter’s 
trade,  and  his  hats  were  so  superior  to  all  others,  whether  made 
there  or  imported,  that  he  enjoyed  a monopoly  of  this  branch  of 
business.  After  remaining  some  time  at  Chihuahua,  Bean  was 
removed  to  Acapulco  and  here  he  learned  that  the  Spaniards  were 
in  despair  since  they  could  find  no  one  to  prepare  and  set  fuses  for 
government  quarries  there.  He  at  once  let  them  know  that  at  that 
particular  business  he  had  no  equal  in  the  Western  Hemisphere,  and 
was  speedily  employed  to  superintend  these  works.  The  truth  is, 
that  Bean  had  never  made  nor  set  a fuse  in  his  life,  but  he  trusted 
to  his  ingenuity  to  carry  him  through,  and  having  mastered'  the 
Spanish  language,  he  thought  he  could  have  a better  chance  of 
escape  from  his  open  air  employment. 

In  the  first  part  of  his  attempt  he  succeeded  admirably,  and  the 
Spaniards  were  immensely  pleased  with  his  knowledge  of  the  busi- 
ness, but  he  made  a lamentable  failure  in  his  attempted  escape.  He 
easily  eluded  his  guard  and  escaping  to  a vessel  lying  in  the  harbor, 
he  secreted  himself  in  a large  cask,  but  was  betrayed  by  the  Portugese 
cook,  wrho  true  to  the  instincts  of  his  race,  was  happy  at  being  the 
instrument  of  condemning  to  unmerited  misery  an  innocent  man. 
Again  he  was  locked  into  his  gloomy  cell  and  felt  that  he  was  farther 
from  liberty  than  ever.  A white  lizard  that  he  had  succeeded  in 
taming,  frisked  around  joyously  on  his  return  and  even  this  evidence 
of  affection  was  grateful  to  the  lonely  captive. 


732 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Supposing  the  prisoner — who  was  by  turns  a hatter,  shoemaker  and 
preparer  of  fuses- — to  be  a universal  mechanic,  the  Mexicans  removed 
him  from  his  cell  to  enable  him  to  prepare  for  them  the  machinery 
for  the  manufacture  of  powder.  It  is  almost  useless  to  say  that 
this  ingenious  man  readily  accomplished  this  task.  Again  he  was 
returned  to  his  cell  by  the  careful  Spaniards,  who  had  no  idea  of 
giving  a single  chance  of  escape  to  so  serviceable  a prisoner. 

In  1811-12  the  revolution  was  in  full  blast  and  Bean  was  offered 
his  liberty  and  a commission  in  the  line,  if  he  would  enlist  in  the 
Royal  army.  Thinking  treachery  toward  such  infamous  scoun- 
drels, as  his  oppressors,  no  crime,  he  at  once  accepted  the  propo- 
sition with  the  full  determination,  as  he  always  avowed,  of  going 
over  to  the  rebels  at  the  very  first  opportunity.  This  was  not 
long  in  offering  and  Morelos,  the  brave  and  patriotic  priest,  gave  him 
a hearty  welcome.  To  the  struggling  revolutionists,  who  needed 
everything,  the  bravery,  talent  and  ingenuity  of  such  a man  as  Bean 
was  a god-send  and  Morelos  did  not  hesitate  to  avow  his  admira- 
tion for  and  appreciation  of  the  young  American. 

Brave  as  a lion  in  action,  Bean  never  lost  his  coolness  or  his  pru- 
dence and  speedily  rose  to  the  rank  of  colonel,  gaining  each  step  of 
this  promotion  upon  the  field.  When  not  fighting  he  was  building 
powder  mills,  preparing  the  foundries  necessary  for  casting  cannon 
and  the  armories  and  machinery  for  turning  out  small  arms  and 
ammunition.  He  was  given  command  of  the  troops  who  were 
besieging  Acapulco,  where  he  was  so  long  imprisoned  and  where  he 
first  essayed  his  blasting  operations.  When  he  captured  the  city  his 
generosity  in  the  treatment  of  its  garrison  was  in  marked  contrast  to 
that  which  he  had  received  from  his  cowardly  captors.  By  this 
manly  course  he  won  the  admiration  of  all;  both  friend  and  foe. 

In  the  autumn  of  1814  the  revolutionists,  who  were  fighting  to 
free  their  country  from  the  Spanish  yoke,  sent  Bean  to  the  United 
States  to  intercede  for  aid  and  recognition  from  the  American 
Republic.  At  Nautla,  Bean  found  one  of  the  pirate  Lafitte’s  ships, 
the  “Tiger,”  under  command  of  Captain  Dominic,  and  sailed  in  her 
to  Barataria.  It  was  at  this  place  that  Bean  first  heard  of  the  war 
between  England  and  the  United  States,  and  he  and  Lafitte  deter- 
mined to  visit  General  Jackson,  who  was  then  at  New  Orleans. 
The  coast  being  blockaded  by  the  British,  the  two  daring  men  pene- 
trated  through  the  swamps,  bayous  and  lagoons  and  thus  made  their 
way  to  the  headquarters  of  “Old  Hickory.” 


ELLIS  r.  BEAN  AND  OTHERS 


733 


The  old  hero  knew  Bean  well  and  favorably  and  he  was  at  once 
placed  in  charge  of  a battery,  and  to  the  pirate  a command  was 
also  assigned,  and  in  the  great  and  eventful  battle  that  soon  fob 


JEAN  LAFITTE — THE  PIRATE. 


lowed,  both  acted  gallant  parts.  The  noble  looking  Lafitte,  a man 
of  desperate  valor,  almost  wiped  away  the  stain  which  his  piracy  Dad 
left  upon  his  name  and  Bean,  of  course,  proved  himself  worthy  of 


7C4 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


his  former  deeds.  Owing  to  the  troubled  condition  of  affairs  in 
the  States,  Bean  was  forced  to  return  without  meeting  with  the  suc- 
cess he  had  hoped  for.  Sailing  for  his  adopted  country  in  another 
of  Lafitte’s  vessels,  he  returned  the  following  year,  accompanied  by 
the  patriotic  Herrara. 

In  1818  Bean  visited  his  parents  in  Tennessee  and  lingered  some 
time  at  his  boybood’s  home.  Still  restless,  he  next  went  to 


STEPHEN  F.  AUSTIN. 


Arkansas,  but  after  a short  stay  in  that  State,  went  as  a colonist  to 
Texas  and  settled  at  Mound  Prairie.  In  1825,  after  the  overthrow 
of  Spanish  dominion  in  Mexico,  Bean  went  thither  and  was  most 
cordially  received  by  his  old  republican  companions-in-arms  who 
ever  retained  a warm  affection  for  him.  His  commission  as  colonel 
was  restored  to  him  and  he  was  appointed  Indian  agent  for  Texas, 


ELLIS  P.  BEAN  AND  OTHERS, 


735 


to  which  State  he  returned  and  where,  m 1832,  he  built  Fort  Teran, 
on  the  Neches  River. 

Here  his  services  were  invaluable  to  the  Americans  during  the 
struggle,  in  1836,  as  by  his  firm  policy  the  Indians  of  East  Texas 
remained  quiet  spectators  of  affairs.  He  was  a personal  and  inti- 
mate friend  of  Houston,  but  after  the  conclusion  of  the  revolution, 
again  returned  to  Mexico,  where  he  had,  during  his  adhesion  to  the 


SAM.  HOUSTON. 

army  of  the  republic,  married  a loT"dy  lady,  then  a refugee  in  his 
camp;  her  property  having  been  sequestered  by  the  royal  par- 
ty, on  account  of  her  sentiments  or  devotion  to  the  Republic. 
After  the  conclusion  of  the  revolution,  when  the  Mexicans  had 
gained  the  day,  his  wife  recovered  her  large  estates  and  the  hero 
spent  his  declining  years  at  her  hacienda,  near  the  city  of  Jalapa. 


736 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


Here,  after  a long  course  of  eventful  deeds  and  filled  with  honor, 
the  evening  of  his  life  passed  quietly  by  and  here,  on  the  3rd  day 
of  October,  1846,  he  died. 


HOUSTON  AT  TALLAPOOSA. 


The  pioneer  heroes  of  Texas  are  too  numerous  for  us  to  give 
extended  sketches  of  each.  It  would  take  more  pages  than  this  his- 
tory of  pioneers  could  spare,  to  recount  the  exploits  of  such  men  as 


ELLIS  P.  BEAN  AND  OTHERS. 


737 


brave  Edward  Burleson,  “the  hero  of  thirty  battles  and  not  a single 
retreat. ” Of  Houston,  grim,  tyrannical,  but  brave  and  devoted. 
Every  American  is  already  familiar  with  his  strange  and  eventful 
history.  Of  Ewen  Cameron,  who  in  early  youth  left  the  shores 
of  “bonnie  Scotia,”  and  who  fell  in  far-off  Texas,  a victim  to  the  mur- 
derous hate  of  infamous  Canalis.  Of  noble,  modest  Fannin,  whose 
only  ambition  was  to  serve  his  country,  and  who,  on  the  fatal  Palm 
Sunday  that  followed  the  disaster  at  Colita,  when  told  that  if  he 
would  kneel  his  life  would  be  spared,  answered:  “If  I wished  for 
life  I would  not  kneel,  but  I do  not  desire  it  since  my  men  have 
been  murdered — do  your  worst.”  Of  Jean  Lafitte,  “the  Pirate  of 
the  Gulf,”  who  killing  a rival  in  a duel  in  Charleston,  became  a 
buccaneer,  and  in  1810  established  his  fort  at  Barataria.  In  1811 
Governor  Claiborne,  of  Louisiana,  offered  a reward  of  $500  for 
his  head,  and  the  pirate  retaliated  by  offering  $5,000  for  that  of 
Claiborne.  In  1812  he  was  offered  and  refused  a commission  in  the 
British  navy  and  in  1814  was  driven  from  Barataria  by  Commodore 
Patterson.  In  1815  his  gallant  conduct  in  defense  of  New  Orleans 
procured  a full  pardon  for  all  his  crimes.  In  . 181 7 he  established 
himself  on  Galveston  Island,  with  a commission  from  the  Mexican 
government  and  the  title  of  Governor  of  Galveston.  His  men  dis- 
obeying his  orders,  to  respect  American  vessels,  he  was  warned,  in 
1821,  by  Lieutenant  Harney,  of  the  brig  “Enterprise”  of  the 
American  navy,  and  calling  together  his  men,  he  paid  all  of  them 
what  was  due  them,  selected  one  hundred  of  the  bravest,  and  in  his 
favorite  ship,  the  “Pride,”  sailed  forever  from  the  Texas  coast  and 
died  in  Silan,  Yucatan,  in  1826.  He  rendered  to  Texas  many  and 
important  services. 

Every  school  history  and  geography  contains  a sketch  of  the  gal- 
lant chevalier,  Robert  de  LaSalle,  the  brave  Norman,  who,  educated 
as  a priest,  became  illustrious  as  an  adventurer,  and  who  was  of  all 
pioneers,  the  first  in  Texas.  His  vicissitudes,  his  exploits  and  his 
melancholy  death  belong  to  history  and  are  too  well  known  to  need 
repetition.  Benjamin  R.  Milam — the  “Hero  of  San  Antonio” — 
noble  “old  Ben,”  stern  and  incorruptible;  who  lived  a patriot  and 
who  died  a hero,  needs  no  further  record  than  the  history  of  his 
deeds  within  the  heart  and  upon  the  tongue  of  every  Texan. 

These  and  many  other  names  are  all  written  deeply  upon  the 
hearts  of  their  countrymen,  and  while  the  human  mind  dwells  with 
pride  upon  heroic  deeds  and  god-like  courage,  they  will  never  fade 
- from  the  deathless  rolls  of  fame. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


DAVY  CROCKETT. 


A GALLANT  SOUL A YOUTH  OP  POVERTY BOYISH  HARDSHIPS HOME- 
SICK  HIS  EDUCATION RUNS  AWAY HIS  RETURN HIS  LABOR 

COURTSHIPS MARRIAGE A SOLDIER A POLITICIAN GOES  TO  THE 

LEGISLATURE ELECTED  COLONEL BECOMES  A JUSTICE  OP  THE  PEACE 

IN  CONGRESS HIS  READY  WIT A YANKEE  TRICK ELECTIONEER- 
ING  GOES  WEST HIS  DEFEAT LAST  SPEECH  TO  HIS  CONSTITUENTS 

STARTS  FOR  TEXAS THE  THIMBLE  RIGGER THE  BEE  HUNTER IN 

THE  ALAMO CASTRELLON,  THE  NOBLE  MEXICAN A TERRIBLE  DRAMA 

DEATH  OF  CROCKETT. 


This  hero  was  the  first  of  American  humorists  who  made  popular 
the  vein  afterward  enlarged  upon  by  Artemus  Ward  and  his  imita- 
tors. Brave  as  a demi-god  and  gentle  as  a woman  this  man  seems  to 
have  possessed  all  the  virtues  of  the  one  without  any  of  the  weaknesses 
of  the  other.  His  whole  career  typifies  these  extremes  of  his  gallant 
soul  and  his  gayety  and  his  daring  serve  to  show  us 

“How  mirth  is  mixed  with  madness 
And  laughter  linked  to  tears.” 

One  of  the  purest  and  noblest  of  those  heroic  souls  who  perished 
in  that  grand  sacrifice  of  the  Alamo,  fate  seems  to  have  led  him  on, 
step  by  step,  to  this  goal  of  honor  and  liberty  that  a fitting  climax 
might  end  and  crown  a life  without  a stain  and  without  a fear. 

David  Crockett  was  born  in  the  eastern  part  of  Tennessee  on  the 
17th  day  of  August,  1786,  when  the  Indians  still  roamed  over  a por- 
tion of  that  State  and  committed  their  midnight  murders  and  other 
atrocities.  One  of  his  uncles  was  a captive  with  the  Creek  Indians 
for  eighteen  years;  his  infirmities,  he  being  a deaf  mute,  rendering 
it  almost  impossible  for  him  to  effect  his  escape.  Crockett’s  child- 
hood and  youth  possessed  more  than  the  usual  share  of  trouble,  but 
he  surmounted  all  of  them  in  a manly  way. 

In  1809,  having  married,  he  moved  across  the  mountains  to  Lincoln 
County,  where  he  remained  two  years  and  from  there  went  to  Frank- 
lin County.  While  living  here  the  war  of  1812  broke  out  and  in 

738 


DAVY  CROCKETT. 


739 


1813  the  Indians,  stirred  up  by  the  British  emissaries,  began 
hostilities.  At  the  first  call  for  recruits  Crockett  volunteered 
under  Andrew  Jackson  and  distinguished  himself  as  a spy,  scout  and 


DAVID  CROCKETT. 


sharp-shooter.  His  wife  having  died  during  his  term  of  service, 
Crockett  married  again  and  was  now  elected  magistrate,  and.  from 
the  necessity  which  arose  for  a knowledge  of  legal  forms,  obtained 


740 


CONQUERING  THE  WILDERNESS. 


the  best  part  of  his  education.  He  studied  hard  to  understand  the 
duties  of  his  office  and  to  perform  them  honestly  and  conscientiously. 
His  next  office  was  that  of  colonel  of  militia,  which  at  that  time  was 
an  important  position.  He  was  next  elected  to  the  State  Legisla- 
ture, where  he  performed  his  duties  with  the  good,  common  sense 
that  in  every  phase  of  life  distinguished  him. 

Loosing  what  money  he  had  accumulated,  by  a disastrous  fire, 
Crockett  moved  farther  West.  While  in  his  new  location  he  fol- 
lowed his  favorite  sport  of  bear  hunting  with  renewed  relish,  and 
many  of  these  animals  fell  beneath  his  deadly  aim.  Once  when  out 
of  ammunition  he  was  forced  to  cross  a stream  known  as  Ruther- 
ford’s Fork  to  obtain  a fresh  supply.  It  was  in  the  dead  of  winter 
and  the  stream  had  flooded  a large  extent  of  country,  re  ndering  its 
passage  both  difficult  and  dangerous.  So  nearly  frozen  was  Crockett 
when  he  had  made  his  way  by  wading,  swimming  and  ferrying  him- 
self over  on  a log,  that  he  was  scarcely  able  to  move.  He  was  gone 
for  three  days  and  when  he  had,  with  scarcely  less  difficulty,  made 
his  way  back,  he  found  that  his  family  had  given  him  up  for  dead. 
Entering  politics  again  he  met  with  alternate  success  and  discom- 
fiture, and  about  this  time  his  wife,  thinking  that  there  was  money 
in  flatboating  to  New  Orleans,  advised  him  to  try  it  and  much 
against  his  judgment  he  did  so.  On  his  way  down  the  turbulent 
current  of  the  Mississippi  both  of  his  two  large  boats  were  wrecked 
and  Crockett,  partially  undressed,  barely  escaped  with  his  life. 
Returning  on  a steamer  to  Memphis,  he  again  reached  home  a 
poorer,  sadder  and  wiser  man,  having  forsworn  navigation  in  all  its 
shapes,  except  that  unavoidable  one  of  crossing  ferries. 

At  the  next  election  he  again  entered  the  race  for  Congress,  and 
in  spite  of  ail  of  the  wire-working  of  the  politicians  and  the  money 
spent  by  the  corruptionists,  he  was  triumphantly  elected.  Reports 
of  his  wit  and  humor  had  preceded  him  to  the  national  capital  and 
wherever  he  went  he  found  himself  a noted  personage.  His  origi- 
nality and  good  sense  enabled  him  to  extend  his  celebrity  and  his 
fame  was  soon  spread  over  the  whole  country.  He  was  welcomed 
in  every  society  and  his  adaptability  prevented  him  from  making 
any  of  the  numerous  blunders,  into  which  a man  of  less  judgment 
would  have  fallen.  He  served  two  terms  in  Congress,  was  beaten 
the  third,  through  the  Jackson  influence,  but  again  elected  the  suc- 
ceeding term  and  made  a tour  of  the  northern  cities,  where  he 


DAVY  CROCKETT. 


741 


created  quite  a furore  and  his  visit  was  a continual  round  of  dinners 
and  festivities.  At  Baltimore  he  was  presented  with  a magnifi- 
cent rifle. 

Keturning  to  his  native  State,  he  again  offered  for  Congress, 
but  his  opponents,  by  an  unscrupulous  use  of  money  and  in  various 
nefarious  ways  succeeded,  in  spite  of  all  of  his  popularity,  in  defeat- 
ing him.  Assembling  his  former  constituents,  Crockett  pointed  out 
to  them  whither  the  country  was  drifting  when  the  votes  of  its  citi- 


SANTA  ANNA. 

zens  could  be  purchased  and  when  bribery  became  an  open  instru- 
ment in  politics.  In  concluding  this  farewell  address,  he  told  the 
people  that  they  might,  if  they  did  not  like  his  plain  manner  of 
speech,  go  to  the  devil  and  that. he  would  go  to  Texas.  This  was  in 
the  autumn  of  1835  and  he  at  once  started  for  his  destination.  Making 
his  way  after  many  difficulties  and  adventures  to  that  State,  he  finally 
entered  the  fatal  fortress  of  the  Alamo,  where  he  was  welcomed  by 
the  bravest  band  of  heroes  that  ever  held  a forlorn  hope  against  the 
overwhelming  numbers  of  injustice  and  tyranny.  The  bee  hunter 


742 


CONQUERIN©  THE  WILDERNESS. 


and  the  poor  thimble  rigger,  comrades  he  had  enlisted  in  the  noble 
cause,  fell  in  one  of  the  desperate  sallies  of  the  garrison  during  the 
early  part  of  the  siege.  Both  fought  like  lions  and  died  like  heroes. 
The  bee  hunter  was  sadly  missed  by  the  garrison,  to  whom  his  sweet 
lays  had  so  often  brought  cheer,  and  all  remembered  the  song, 
which  he  had  frequently  told  them  was  the  last  his  sweetheart 
ever  sang  to  him,  just  before  he  left  her.  Its  sadness  had  ever 
brought  a momentary  gloom,  which  was  soon  dissipated  by  some 
roystering  martial  chorus,  but  now  its  wierd  and  solemn  refrain 
haunted  all : 

“Home  came  the  bridle  all  bloody  to  see, 

Home  came  horse  and  saddle,  but  never  came  he.” 

Her  song  had  proved  a prophetic  chaunt  and  far  to  the  south, 
by  the  old  Catholic  mission  of  the  Alamo,  the  brave  and  noble  young 
fellow  had  given  his  life  for  the  god-like  cause  of  liberty. 

It  is  said,  that  in  the  desperate  extremity  of  the  gallant  Texans, 
the  noble  Castrellon,  whose  honor  and  nobility  of  soul  is  the  only 
bright  spot  on  the  bloody  back-ground  of  infamy  and  murder  that 
characterized  the  Mexican  conduct  of  this  war,  went  repeatedly  to 
the  cowardly  and  brutal  Santa  Anna,  who  was  shivering  with  fear 
behind  an  adobe  house,  five  hundred  yards  from  the  fortifications, 
and  asked  him  for  mercy  for  the  brave  Texans. 

“I  have  told  you,”  said  the  dastard  “that  everyone  of  them  must 
die;  not  a single  one  shall  be  spared.”  Castrellon’s  place  was  to 
obey  orders  however  repugnant  they  might  be,  and  like  a hero  he 
led  his  men  for  the  last  time  to  the  assault.  The  terrible  drama  was 
at  an  end.  The  Alamo  was  captured  and  all  of  its  garrison  were 
corpses.  Amongst  them  was  gentle,  brave  and  noble  David  Crock- 
ett. During  the  siege  his  rifle  had  slain  scores  of  the  Mexicans  and 
at  the  supreme  moment  he  stood  like  a lion  at  bay,  rending  his  foes. 
Around  his  mangled  body  were  found  the  corpses  of  a dozen  of  the 
enemy,  who  had  fallen  by  his  single  hand.  In  death  his  lips  wore 
the  simple  smile  of  childhood  and  at  last  the  brave,  but  restless 
spirit  of  the  mighty  hunter  was  at  peace.  His  noble  life  of  useful- 
ness and  honesty  had  been  crowned  with  the  heroe’s  death  in  a cause 
where  the  brave  and  noble  had  offered  themselves  as  a sacrifice  to 
the  brutality  of  tyranny  and  numbers.  In  the  glorious  hecatomb  of 
freedom’s  victims  can  be  found  no  more  shining  name  than  that  of 
David  Crockett, 


